She Will Be Loved
by Otaku Samurai
Summary: “Love’s not always rainbows and butterflies, it’s compromise that moves us along. My heart is full and my door’s always open,” his eyes were glassy behind the glasses and he showed a look of pure love. “You can come anytime that you want.”
1. Wake Up Call

**Okay, for the people who are thinking: "What the heck is she doing posting another fanfic when **OoLH** hasn't been updated for ****(fill in blank here)**** months?!" or "OTAKU SAMURAI MUST COMMIT SEPPUKU!!" Well...uh, this is the love child of my repetition of Maroon 5's awesomely great music and my sadistically mediocre writing skills. Heh, yup. Explanation is at the bottom.**

**But, to be safe from a lawsuit: I don't own ****Bleach****. If I did, Uryu would already be locked in my closet, and Ichigo would be doing hard labor in my backyard by pulling weeds. **

* * *

He had seen her crying again.

That was the only thing that has been on his mind for the past few days now, eating away at him. He couldn't stand it at all. He never liked to see neither girl nor woman cry; he wanted to comfort her.

But, she was totally beyond his reach. He had seen that Orihime was crying, and he couldn't do _anything_ at all to provide help to her. _She was crying for Ichigo._

So, maybe that's why Uryu Ishida decided to take a very un-discretional walk for a few blocks around his apartment to cool off his thoughts. What a moron he was. It was 32 degrees out and the sky was as gray as his attitude.

_Well, I guess I get to try out that new jacket I bought... _

Turning the corner, he silently reflected on his new leather jacket. Uryu was never a fan of leather –he actually didn't even like the material that much– but he had to admit that it _did_ keep in heat. Plus he got it for a great price.

His train of thought stopped abruptly as something small and sharp hit the top of his head and Uryu looked up. An ice-cold drop of water hit the left lense of his glasses and trickled down his face.

It was starting to rain.

_Well, _duh_ you freaking idiot! Of course it was going to rain!_

Hastening his pace, Uryu strode back to his apartment as more rain started to fall. By the time he rounded the last corner to his destined destination, every part of his body besides the parts covered in leather were soaked. And, to make things worse, he was starting to get even more pissed off as his mind drifted back to Orihime. _Damn that bastard Kurosaki! I should really kick his ass for being so oblivious to Inoue-san! How can he _not_ see the obvious love she has for him?...or see the hurt in her eyes?_

Uryu's anger dissipated and metamorphosed into sadness and even possibly, self-loathe. _Why can't I tell her how I feel? Why do I have to be such a— _

He slowed his pace and came to a complete stop onto the right side of the street. He didn't care if he was drenched, and he didn't care if he'd catch pneumonia or hypothermia or even died of a head cold.

There she was, just sitting on a bench on the corner. Orihime's head was bent down and her face was in her hands. Strands of wet gingery auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, dripping with cold.

She had been crying.

An ache formed in his chest as he gazed at her with caring eyes.

When Orihime was involved with anything –fighting or otherwise– Uryu always quit giving a damn about himself to look out for her. He _had_ quit giving a damn ever since his fight with that sadistic brute of a Tenth Captain. She would of been dead if he had cared about even one inch of himself. And, right now, was _no way in hell _different. Uryu'd rather die right now in that very spot on the curb, then see her slowly get killed by a broken heart. The fight with Mayuri was in no way different then the dire situation right now. He was going to save her from her pain, and from her inner death. Even if she didn't love him as he loved her.

Uryu would not cower this time and wait for "Kurosaki to the Rescue", for he knew that he'd never come anyways. He was going to solace her, even if he had to rip out all of his nerves to do it.

* * *

"Inoue-san?"

Orihime looked up to see the male voice, expecting someone else. The voice was comforting, and made her feel a little at ease. Caring, but shy. Yet, who she saw was none other than one of the last of the Quincies: Uryu Ishida.

Her heart sunk.

"Oh...hiya, Ishida-kun." She smiled and gave him a mock salute with her right hand.

Uryu could tell that she was faking the smile. Always faking the smile. Her eyes were red, and the salty tears she shed for that bastard shinigami were mixed in with the rainwater on her face. He couldn't stand to see her, of all people, like this. It was unbearable to see someone that you loved cry. "Inoue-san, you should get out of the rain. Here, I'll walk you home." Uryu stretched out his hand.

Orihime looked blankly at him, without a word. That sham of a smile he hated to see was gone. Her face was somber, and was filled with no other emotion except sadness.

Uryu removed his leather jacket and slightly shivered at the gusting wind that blew at his once dry back. She was just as drenched as he was, but she was wearing a sweater made from what he thought looked like a wool-like material. Even if she was wet, she'd still stay warm. He wrapped the jacket around her cold shoulders. "This should keep you drier until I can get you back..."

She still didn't say anything, but her eyes told it all. She didn't want to leave. Orihime'd rather sit out in the wind and rain and waste her precious life away thinking of Ichigo. _Damn that son of a..._

Shivering, Uryu looked down at her and then softly grabbed her arm, but she pulled it away as soon as his strong hand touched her wet limb. He frowned. "Inoue-san, stop being stubborn! You need to get out of the rain before you catch a—"

"No! I don't want to go! I...I..." Orihime interjected as the words choked in her throat. "I just want to...s-stay..."

He looked down at her with tormented dark blue eyes. She never lashed out like that, to anyone. Even if she was mad to the fullest extent, she never was one to yell. Orihime was truly, truly heartbroken.

He wanted to hold her, but he didn't have the strength to make the consoled assertion. She was beyond his boundaries, and he couldn't really help that. "Inoue-san. I know you're crying because of Kurosaki."

She looked straight at him with eyes wide. Surprise and shock with a mixture of embarrassment was seen in her face. She still didn't say anything to him, but Uryu knew she was asking: "How do you know?"

So he answered her.

"There are only two reasons as to why you would cry, Inoue-san. One, because you couldn't save or heal someone," his thoughts quickly flashed back to that one night at the Soul Society. Orihime couldn't heal that one man whom Mayuri tricked into trapping the both of them, "and two, because of love for Kurosaki." His dark, navy blue eyes looked into her stormy gray ones.

Orihime gasped inwardly. Deep hidden in Uryu's eyes behind the blurry rectangular glasses he wore, she saw sadness. He normally never showed emotion like that.

Uryu cautiously gulped as he continued. "I...I saw you crying the other day too, Inoue-san. That day after school..."

He remembered that day so clearly, and it will always be branded into the back of his mind.

_It was the last period of the day, and I was just sitting there at the desk, watching her socialize with her friends. Inoue-san was talking about this one song. She said that she absolutely loved that song. It was English and was called... 'She Will Be Loved', I think. The band was... Maroon 5? Yeah. That's right. Maroon 5..._

* * *

"Tatsuki! Don't you just _love_ that song?!" Orihime practically shouted to her friend.

"Hmm...?" Tatsuki shrugged. "I dunno, it's_ okay _I guess."

Orihime was taken aback. "What do you mean 'it's _okay_'? 'She Will Be Loved' is one of the best songs ever! It's so sweet! You can tell that the guy singing really cares and loves the girl in it, and that he'd do basically _anything_ to make her feel happy, even in the rain and that whenever she was sad that she could always run to him! It also shows that the guy has a tender side to him...and that he loves her very much!"

In the background Uryu raised a black eyebrow. _She said that all in one breath... _

Tatsuki sighed to her hyper friend. She didn't really care for western style music, but she had to agree with the facts she was given. "True—"

"Yeah, but _I_ think that the singer is really a girl, and is trying to tell the other girl in the song that she really really wants her!" Chizuru cut Tatsuki's agreement off. "That's _my_ philosophy on Maroon 5! The singer is a girl and that answers the question of why his—I mean, _her_ voice is so high when she sings! It was such a tortured romance that the singer has to pretend that she's a guy," she gave a thumbs-up and winked to no one in particular, "to tell the girl he loves her! Ah! Celebriality these days..."

Veins popped up on Tatsuki's forehead and fists. "You damned heathen!..._Do you have no decency?!_" She practically grinded her teeth. "Why must you always put your _sick lesbian thoughts _into everything?"

"Hey! I can have my own opinions!" The red-haired girl who had an overly fixated homosexual obsession retorted.

"Not those perverted ones, which, by the way, is _most of the time! _I swear! This school would be the most peaceful and safest school in the district if you weren't here!...I wouldn't have anyone to kick in the face all the time!"

Uryu watched this whole state of affairs hardly even interested. But, he didn't pay any heed to the other bickering two. He was pretending to read his textbook, but his eyes weren't on the kanji inside. They were secretly on _her_. Orihime wasn't paying attention to her friends anymore; she was sitting next to the window looking out into the blue sky and singing to herself.

He could remember every lyric she sang with her beautiful voice.

* * *

After the bell rang, she went to her locker to get some school books for the weekend homework they were assigned.

"Oh, wait..." She acknowledged to herself. "...I forgot my hair spray!"

Orihime promptly slammed the locker door shut and ran back to the classroom.

* * *

As she got there, her arm was fully reached out and her hand almost touched the cold silver knob when she looked through the transparent window of the class. Her eyes were wide and Orihime couldn't believe what she was seeing. Cracks were starting to form inside her compassionate heart.

_Kurosaki-kun w-with... Kuchiki-san?_

She backed away from the white door and ran. Turning the corner, with her ginger hair flying loosely around her, she crashed into Uryu, knocking the wind out of him.

"I-Inoue-san?" he gasped like a fish out of water.

There were tears in her eyes.

Orihime didn't say anything or even notice him. She didn't even turn around. She just kept running...away...from him?

He was confused, which didn't happen too often. _What was that about?_

Curiosity mixed with worry bubbled in his chest. He walked to the direction Orihime came from. He figured by a magical happen chance that it was their last period room.

When he got to that door, he instantly clenched his teeth and the anger Uryu felt at that very moment cut out his heart and caught it on fire. He abruptly turned around before he went Quincy Archer on that sorry orange-haired bastard's ass.

Ichigo was kissing Rukia.

* * *

The rain was now pouring into threatening sheets of water as he stood and she sat.

"I'm sorry you had to see them..." Uryu could only maffle. He wished she didn't have to go through that. That, that undeniable hurt to have that one person you love the most, that one person you'd give you life for, love someone else. Yet, in a way, Uryu was the same as Orihime. He would die for her, and, during countless times, almost has. He loved her. But, he loved her enough to respect that she loved Ichigo, and could never really love him back the same way in return.

"You s-saw them too?" She hardly whispered. _He was the one I ran into?_

Uryu couldn't explain the look in Orihime's eyes. They were so passionate for love, yet so sad and broken. He couldn't believe eyes so beautiful, eyes that had so much spark and shine to them, could show any sign of anguish like that.

But he was wrong.

Uryu shook his wet, glossy black head in a 'yes' manner to answer the question she interrogated. "Yes, Inoue-san."

Orihime couldn't hold in the tears anymore. The black leather jacket fell off of her shoulders as she stood up and wrapped her arms around Uryu and buried her head in his chest. "Oh Ishida-kun! Kurosaki-kun loves Kuchiki-san!" She cried out to him, "He-he doesn't love me!"

Closing his eyes, he just held her tightly and stroked her hair. He inhaled the scent of the gingery auburn locks on her head. "It's okay Inoue-san...It will be okay..."

"How can you say that?!" She cried out in a gasp. "No it won't! I love him so much, Ishida-kun, but he doesn't love me back!... I've, I've loved him for so long... I don't know what to do. He, he was kissing her!"

Uryu continued to stroke her hair.

"Kurosaki-kun...he—"

Uryu opened his eyes and locked eye contact with her. He put a finger to her lips. "Listen to me, Inoue-san. Kurosaki is a _fool_. If he can't even see the love you have for him up close and to his face, then he doesn't deserve someone as caring and as good as you. You would make any man happy, and I can't see why _he_ cannot see that."

Uryu wiped the hot tears from her wet face and lightly kissed her wet forehead.

Orihime stayed quiet and pondered on his tender words. She placed her head on his chest again as he held her close to him, ceasing her tears. They both just stood there for a while, but it seemed like hours went by. He was so warm, even for being soaked to the bone...and his grip around her gave her a secure feeling, one she has never felt before. She felt...she felt safe, and secure in his arms as he stroked her back with his other hand. Orihime had never felt _this_ safe with anyone else...

...except with her brother.

And that was years ago.

"Come on, Inoue-san." Her ears pricked to his soothing whispered voice under the now calm drizzle of sprinkled water around them, "lets get you home."

She didn't object as he walked her back with his strong arm around her. _Thank you Ishida-kun..._

* * *

When they both got to her apartment, Uryu ordered Orihime to go to her room and get dried. He didn't know exactly how long they were out in the wet and cold, but if she didn't change, she'd most likely get extremely sick. And of course, he didn't want that.

"What about you, Ishida-kun? You're all wet too!"

Uryu frowned. "My health doesn't matter as much as yours does." He looked at her sternly, "_You _are the only one that matters to me." Truth and love were in his eyes, but he didn't know if she caught the gaze. Chivalry and care was in his tone of voice.

But, Orihime blushed at his words rather than his look. "Do y-you mean that?" She spoke softly. Her heart started beating in her chest. _Does he— _

He instantly realized what he had said and blushed back at her interrogative. Uryu was quiet, and his glasses glinted in the room as he slightly looked down. _Of course it was. I mean everything I say to you, Inoue-san. _He couldn't bring himself to look at her or even tell her that. A few moments ago, he was holding her with her body fully compressed to his, and now he couldn't talk or even look at her. Uryu despised himself at times for that.

He heard something but didn't pay any heed.

Uryu wanted to tell her those pent up feelings he's had for her for so long now. They were overflowing up inside of him and threatening to explode out at any moment. The love feeling he'd always get from Orihime affected him so much that he'd feel sick at times. He loved her more than anything. An eruption of confidence developed inside the Quincy.

"Inoue-san I—"

He looked up and saw that Orihime was not there. Uryu uttered a hopeless sigh. It figured that when he was going to say something like _that_ she would not be standing there to hear him. Maybe it was better that way. She was burdened with enough things right now—and if he was to tell her his feelings of love, he'd probably just hurt her even more. When she got over her loss, maybe he might tell her.

Besides, Uryu'd just get hurt himself if he was to express his love now. He probably couldn't take the rejection and the denial. _I can only wait for you to get over Kurosaki, Inoue-san..._

He heard a noise again and Orihime came out holding a small bundle. She was fully changed, wearing a dull pink long-sleeved shirt with three blue flowers on the torso, and a darker pink pair of matching pajama pants. Her hair was still wet to some extent, but at least her body was dry.

He took a deep breath. Uryu could relax a little.

Orihime walked to Uryu and handed him the small bundle. "Here, Ishida-kun. You should change too. I-I don't want you to get sick..." She whispered modestly.

With one soft hand he shyly took the clothes from her own soft hands.

"...they should fit you. There's a red shirt and some pants, if that's okay. You can change in the bathroom. It's just around the hall. Uhm, you can just hang your wet clothes on the shower curtain pole."

Uryu looked at the clothes. They smelled like they have been laying in the closet for a few years, but they felt and indeed looked brand-new. Why would she have these?

"Who's are these?" He then looked at her.

Orihime's eyes locked with Uryu's. She appeared like she was going to break down again. "They were my brother's. I bought them for his birthday present one year. He said he needed new clothes. But, that was a few days before h-he—"

"Thank you Inoue-san." Uryu smiled softly to her. His dark blue eyes shined. "These will do finely."

As he walked past her, one of his hands brushed against her own. She didn't know if it was by accident, or if it was intentional but, she blushed anyway. He was acting so out of character today! Uryu was just smiling before her. There was this tender side to him that she or, maybe no one has ever seen. Was she the only one?

When she had cried out to him, telling him about her feelings for Ichigo, and how he didn't love her, Uryu had held her close to him. He had calmed her, and walked her all the way home with his arms around her. And he cared for her, not once thinking of himself. She looked over at the front door and saw the leather jacket on the coat hook dripping with lucid rain. There was an undescribable feeling she always got whenever Uryu touched her that was different than when Ichigo did.

Ichigo was kind of rough, where Uryu was soft and gentle. Ichigo was always there for her, just like Uryu, but he seemed distant from her...and Uryu seemed always by her side or helping her when she was in need. Slowly, Ichigo was starting to loose sight in her brain.

Orihime found herself starting to feel warm as she kept recollecting her thoughts on the Quincy. She knew her face was flustered; she could feel the warmth rise in her skin. _Did he...did he like me more than he showed?_ She silently and anxiously laughed to herself.

_N-no, of course not! _She thought bashfully as her cheeks blushed a darker shade of red. Orihime felt dizzy and her knees were weak._ He doesn't like me that way!_

Orihime couldn't help but wonder, though.

He didn't respond when she asked him if he meant that she only mattered to him. Uryu just looked down. Maybe he did like her.

It felt so...so right when he held her close, though. When he stroked her hair. When he whispered that everything was going to be okay.

Her eyes went slightly wide._ Did he actually k-kiss my forehead?! _Her mind was fuzzy and she couldn't recall if he did or not. Orihime felt something soft on her forehead after he wiped the tears off of her face... Oh, this was so confusing!

Trying to push the thought from her head, she decided to boil some water to make tea. She knew Uryu would still be cold, so she might as well warm him up.

She blushed once again and her heart nervously beat at an unusual fast pace.

_Heh heh, uhmm, warm him up by making tea, I mean..._

She was sure that she looked absolutely stupid just standing there. So, with her deep blush of crimson still on her face, Orihime walked to her kitchen to find a pan to fill with water, along with Uryu Ishida still running around in circles trapped in her harebrained mind.

And Ichigo Kurosaki was slowly being locked out.

**

* * *

**

Dang, around nine pages of IshiHime right there. Well here's my explanation:

**First off, school's been kinda... difficult. Don't get me wrong—I love English. But, my class is basically "Hell on Earth". Except the classroom is always freezing (ironic). **

**Second: Mr. BadDragon hates/likes me. That's confusing (and ironic). At least I impressed him by being the best speller in the lamely stupid Honors Class. No one could spell c-o-n-s-c-i-e-n-t-i-o-u-s right except me. **

**Third: I've been working on some other fics of mine. Samurai 7 is way too much fun to write. I get to write all dramatic and kind of angsty and emotional, but yet with the humor love. Woo. Angst is fun (...ironic?). **

**So, there you go. This is just kind of a 'mini project' of mine...I think it'll be a two-shot. I still have a few more pages to go with chapter 2. **Please review! **Would be greatly appreciated, but you don't have to review if you don't want to (you get a nice review reply if you do review, though). If you can, please point out any errors or typos.**

**Also, by the way, I hope you all had a great holiday! Mine was cool; I got some pretty awesome stuff for Christmas (iPhones totally own). But, the best present of all was just hanging out with my psychotic family. **


	2. Nothing Lasts Forever

**So...I've decided that I'd just post this now. Track and Field and my dumb long-term science project are over as stated on my profile (if you people have been checking in on my profile) so I've gotten some of my life back and I am now able to work on some my fanfic compositions. Anyway, onward!**

* * *

After the Quincy fully modified his wet apparel, an unnoticing Uryu Ishida walked into a very warm and, rather _cozy _livingroom. Well, Orihime never ceased to amaze him. She was right. The clothes he wore fit just about perfectly. The shirt was exactly his size, and so were the tan khaki pants she had let him wear. He rolled the sleeves up on the red long sleeved tee.

_Hmm, Inoue-san must of turned a heater on or something. _As he inhaled the air for a quick breath, his nose felt irritated. _It smells kind of— _

"Ah-ah..._ahchoo_!!" He sneezed vociferously with a twitch. Wiping his nose with a finger, Uryu's right eye blinked a few times behind one of the rectangular glass lenses on his face.

—_ugh. Peppery..._

Uryu looked around as his vision cleared and saw Orihime. She was sitting on the floor by a small table in the middle of the room. There were two cups on the flat surface she sat at, plus a number of other _appetizing_ and _colorful_ objects on it.

_She's shaking a...a peppershaker above the cup?!_

He stared at her.

_...More like thrashing..._

Orihime heard him sneeze and rapidly turned her head to look at his direction. "Oh, Ishida-kun! I made some tea for you!" She pointed at it with her other hand and smiled in her usual cheerful manner.

He cautiously walked over to her and sat down. Uryu looked at the brown liquid timidly and gulped. There was nothing floating in it...it actually looked normal, but with life lately and with Orihime, nothing was ever "normal" anymore. He almost even forgot what it meant, that word normal. And "average".

"If you were wondering, Ishida-kun," Orihime answered the obvious question to himself about the liquid tormenting before him, "I didn't put anything in your tea. You don't look like much of a pepper person anyway. I didn't put any sugar either...Or hot sauce...Or peanut butter...Or lemon...Or ranch."

He almost threw up in his mouth when she said "ranch". Uryu's eyes watered and he couldn't bear to even take glance at her cup. So, he just ordered himself to stare at either his own or her face. He was still shy about earlier, though. He meekly chose to look at the tea.

But, then he felt a great weight be lifted off his shoulders—at least it wasn't toxic.

Scooping two spoonfuls of sugar and dropping them gracefully into his tea, Uryu lightly smiled and chuckled under his breath. "Thank you, Inoue-san. That was nice of you to think of me. I really appreciate it."

Orihime blushed at his complement. He was acting out of character again! Since when did he _smile_? _More or less chuckle?!_

"I-Ishida-kun! You're not acting yourself today! Do you have a fever?!" She moved over to his side of the table before he could even blink a dark navy blue eye and felt his forehead with one of her hands. He looked straight at her with an extremely nervous twitch. Her breasts were in his face, and Uryu was in fear of an onset nosebleed. "Hmm...You're not hot..."

He turned away and blushed. She followed by blushing deeper. "I-I mean your _forehead's_ not hot! Of course _you're_ hot, Ishida-kun! _Ack_!"

He blushed times three and she blushed times twenty-seven. "No, no, no! I-I didn't m-mean it _that_ w-way!...oh, u-uhm," she stammered, "Ah, ehmm..."

_Did I just call him hot?!_ _I must be the one with the fever!—_

"—It's okay, Inoue-san..."–he paused then reassured her–"...I'm not sick, nor do I have a fever." He really just wanted to stop the awkwardness anyway he could. It was awkward enough for him already, why add more?

Orihime moved back to her side of the table and got back to her over-exotic tea. "Alrighty then." She consented, still slightly unsure of his well-being.

Their faces were both still a little red. She took a deep breath; he covered his mouth with a half clenched fist and coughed nervously. The girl instantly looked at him.

Uryu rose both of his hands up. "I swear! I'm not sick, Inoue-san."

Orihime looked at him suspiciously with her gray eyes. "_Sure_, Ishida-kun..."

She took hold of her tea and he looked down again. Uryu cleared his throat and reflected deeply on the girl sitting across from him. This was a good idea because if he was to watch her sip her tea (if you could still call it 'tea'), he'd probably pass out from sight of the black snow of pepper on top of the hot sauce sea of lemon with a scoop of peanut butter and three teaspoons of ranch.

_She seems really...I don't know..._happy_ now. Has she forgotten about Kurosaki _that_ fast? She seems to have accepted it, or maybe she just wants to look like it to make sure that I don't worry about her? Should I ask...?_

"Inoue-san, you're a really resilient person."

She cocked her head sideways with a monotonous blank look in her eyes and a thin little line for a mouth. "Resili-_huh_?"

"Umm, really, eh, _lively_ is what I mean. You seemed to have been feeling better about–about well, you know, Kurosaki...since before."

"Oh..." Orihime looked down. Her heart slowly started to beat in a faster tempo. "Y-Yeah. To tell the truth, I haven't thought about him since you left to go change." She sadly smiled a small smile."I want to thank you for, um, helping me earlier. I really thought about the things you told me, Ishida-kun. At first it was kind of hard, y'know, to picture Kurosaki-kun with Kuchiki-san because I've always wished that I was with him..."

Uryu just stared at her. For some reason, he couldn't believe her words. He knew how long she has loved Ichigo, and how strung up she was on him.

"...But, they looked really happy together, and I think he's always kind of liked her that way, ever since he first met her...it will still hurt a little bit but, I'm–I'm accepting it with open arms! Kurosaki-kun has my blessing to be with—"

"Inoue-san, don't kid yourself."

She blinked at him. Uryu's tone was cold and his eyes were frigid. The way he talked hurt her, but the scowl of his eyes harmed Orihime even more. "W-What do you mean?"

Intense emotion was deeply etched in his pale face. He wanted to believe her, more than anything. But, she needed more time.

"You can't get over someone that you loved for so long _that_ fast. You can try to accept it, but even then, your heart will still yearn for the one who broke you. It takes time to move on, and it takes time for your wounds to heal. It...will still _always_ hurt..."

Orihime was silent. Did she say something wrong that made him mad? Her vision started to blur, and she felt tears starting to dam up around the edges of her gray eyes. Her mind went back to when they were out in the rain and he was wiping her tears away as the water fell from the cold sky and her face. She wished he'd do that again now and talk to her tenderly as he did before. _I-I didn't mean to make him mad..._

Her eyes drifted down and Uryu saw a tear roll down her cheek. Instantly, he hated himself to the fullest extent.

"I-I'm sorry, Inoue-san." He quickly said.

She looked up at his face. Sincerity and regret were in his dark, navy blue eyes. His voice was now caring and sorry, as if he had hurt her. He did, and he knew it in her _and_ his expression. "I didn't mean to sound like that. It just...it just hurts. More than any physical wound. More than _anything_, to have that person that you've loved for such a long time to be in love with somebody else and not love you the same way. Please, don't cry...Inoue-san."

Orihime wiped her eyes. "Ishida-kun, don't be sorry for me! It's alright. Really. You don't have to say you're sorry. I should be the one to say sorry. You're right. I can't get over him that fast."

Hearing her say this forced Uryu to get something off his chest. He's never really opened up before to talk about his feelings and things relating to emotion with anyone except with his grandfather, but, with Orihime he felt that he could talk about anything with her. He trusted and loved her enough. Love required trust.

"I'm in the same position as you." Uryu said this in only a whisper; he was staring at his tea once more. "I love someone too, but they are in love with someone else. S-She doesn't notice me much, and I don't think she likes me the same way as I do her. It always kind of hurts just to be in the same room with her so close by...but I've gotten used to it..." He sadly laughed under his breath. "I'm like you, Inoue-san. I feel the same things as you. You're not the only one who hurts."

Orihime looked at him in surprised forlorn. _Ishida-kun's been hurt by someone he's loved too? He's never shown any sign of it at all...how could a person hurt someone so nice like him?_

"I had so many chances to tell her how I feel." Uryu was reminiscing the everyday bittersweet encounters with Orihime. The way she smiled. The was she laughed. The happy look on her face. Then the way she'd look at Ichigo. "She is always right there in front of me."

_And she still is._

Uryu didn't want to admit it, but that bastard Kurosaki always brought the best out of Orihime. Her face would shine the very most when he was around. The best of everything. Her smile that Uryu saw. Her laugh that Uryu heard. The emotions on her face that Uryu'd secretly gaze at. And the tears that fell from her eyes that he had wiped away.

Fate was a terrible thing he mentally concluded.

Orihime was curious and her head was spinning faster than ever before. Who was this mystery person Uryu was talking about? She had never seen him looking at anyone. She had never seen the girl he was talking about ever in front of him. Wonder was starting to get the best of her. Just who was this enigma of a girl?

_Huh. Tatsuki? Course not. She said he looked too frail and bony. Ryo? Hmm...no. She said she didn't want a boyfriend because "he'd just slow her down". "After the Olympics," I think she said. Uh, Michiru? Heh, no way! She likes Nakahira-kun!...Umm, who else is there?...Chizuru?_

Her gray eyes went slightly wide.

_...eww... _

This was making her head hurt. She knew almost about all of the girls in her class, and none really seemed like the type he would choose. Or to _like_ his type...which was kind of weird. Didn't a lot of girls go for the "tall, dark, mysterious" type anyway? Maybe it was the glasses...or the fact that he wasn't that social except for around Chad, Ichigo, Rukia, and her and always told people to never talk to him anymore. Oh things were getting really confusing again! She didn't like being confused; she always felt that something was missing.

_Does he like someone I don't know or maybe from another class? Grr! So— _

"–who is she?" Orihime blurted out in mid-thought, oblivious to the question she just asked him.

He was petrified. Uryu couldn't even look at her. His face was blank and his heart felt like it had ceased beating. How could she possibly ask him that? How could he even answer that? Didn't she know how much it hurt? Didn't she go through the _same exact_ thing? Uryu's eyes were blank and lucid, just as his face was. And yet, they were foggy and clouded. Tormented. Broken. Every synonym for hopeless that you could find.

He needed to leave her house. Uryu couldn't stay any longer. He shouldn't have even been there at all. The walls were caving in on him and he felt as though he couldn't breath. He couldn't stand it. A hole in his chest was starting to open up and Uryu needed to get away from her, from Orihime's apartment. It was better to be alone and cope, but he was stupid and landed himself in the belly of the beast. He was always alone, and he will forever be always alone. Uryu's breathing started to revive and hasten.

Orihime saw this with realization. She instantly regretted what she had just asked—unaware of his feelings and the things that were running through his mind. He still really loved that one girl, and she knew how hard it felt to love someone like that, and to feel the emotional backslide. She was so stupid. Knowing—but never, ever thinking.

"Ishida-kun! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that! You know me, I just say and do stupid things without thinking! Please, Ishida-kun! I'm _so_ sorry!"

He didn't answer. He was put into a state of total monotonous being. Uryu breathed lightly, finally beaten and kicked to the ground and hard concrete. "I should be going home now, Inoue-san." he hardly managed to say to her face. His eyes were stuck on the wall behind her, not daring to look at any inch of her body. In the corner of his eye, he could see a blurry outline of Orihime.

"What? You can't go now!" Orihime begged him. However, she couldn't help but agree with him. She'd want to leave too if someone had just stupidly said the same things she did. She quickly racked her brain to try to find a reason for him to stay. "You...you didn't even finish your tea yet."

Defeated, the Quincy sighed. The features on his face looked ultimately despondent. She started to feel guilty for bringing up painful memories for him and resurfacing them from his heart.

"Yes, I should, Inoue-san. It's late, and you need to rest. I'm just troubling you with my pitiful woes," he said lowly. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me." _I couldn't bear that, if anything._

Uryu didn't see the look of disappointment on Orihime's face as he lethargically glanced at his watch for the time. It was already past seven. He turned his head to look out of the window in the livingroom and saw it was already almost dark outside. Uryu's mind told him to leave, but his heart told him to stay. How he wanted to listen to his heart. But, every time he did it always resulted in something going wrong. Uryu's luck was the worst in the world and he couldn't help that, just like how he couldn't help that he loved her. How could he not? Two negatives equaled a positive, right? You learned this in grade school. They were so different, yet he couldn't help but be utterly attracted to her. Inwardly, he groaned. Science and mathematics were such _abominations_ at some times.

Orihime chewed her bottom lip. She really wanted him to stay longer. She liked him there. She wanted to know him better, and she wanted _him_ to know _her_ better. Orihime was his friend. Probably one of the only friends he's ever had. She liked him.

She liked him...

"Inoue-san, may I have a bag or something for my clothes?"

She was brought out of her daydreams once again. Orihime looked over at him and he was already standing up. She wouldn't deny him what he wanted—she had done and said enough things to him in the time frame he was there at her apartment. Besides, he'd do anything for her if she asked. He was such a nice guy behind the stoic exterior he always showed and gave out to people.

"It's okay, Ishida-kun. I-I'll do it for you," her voice rustled softly.

She got up and went to the bathroom where his clothes were hanging. Getting the bag, she rolled up his damp apparel. Unknown to her she also started humming as she wrapped the clothes into a bundle and placed them into the plastic bag.

* * *

**Yep...there you have it. Chapter two. So this will be a three chaptered IshiHime fanfiction, and not a two-shot like originally planned. I think I failed in my writing abilities since I consider this chapter really choppy...and not as good as it should of been. I honestly think my writing sucks. But, writers are their worst critics (or in my case). So please review! Would be greatly appreciated; you people plus reviews equals guilt which equals at some eventual time a new chapter. Guilt trips are welcome, so please tell me if there are typos and stuff like that (even though none of you do). Thanks again! Talk to you all later!**


	3. Not Falling Apart

****

Final chapter! How will it **_end?!—Will it even end??_ We'll find out! And do you (awesome) people know **_**why**_** we'll find out if it even ends?**

**CUZ IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!! Duh-duhduhduh, duhduhduhduh, duhduhduh, duhduhduhduhduhduh...the FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!!!! *goes "Europe" on all of the readers***

**o_O" Ok...that was freaky. My...bad? *disappointed in self* So this is the last chapter. I think. We'll find out, right? **

* * *

"It's okay, Ishida-kun. I-I'll do it for you." Her voice rustled softly.

She got up and went to the bathroom where his clothes were hanging, still dripping with wet. Getting the bag, she rolled up his damp apparel—his school uniform: white shirt, gray pants, even his striped tie. Absentmindedly, she started humming as she wrapped his clothes into a bundle and placed them into the plastic bag.

"Beauty queen of only eighteen...she had some trouble with herself..."

* * *

Uryu just stood there and waited. The loathe for his cowardice was indescribable. He couldn't explain how horrible he felt—anger, hate, guilt, regret. Everything. Love.

_Orihime..._

His thoughts kept circling around Orihime, and he couldn't get her out of his head. Her voice. Her tears. Her smile. Her laugh. Her screams. Her body. Her hair. Her face. It was for the overall best that he should leave.

_Damn...Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn!_

Uryu wanted to tell her that he loved her—he wanted to pour out his heart—to kiss her, to hold her and to keep her safe. Damn that shinigami bastard Kurosaki to the Soul Society for hurting her like that! His breathing was becoming deep and his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists.

No. It was his fault he was feeling like this. He needed to stop storing his emotions, and to release them all, even if he ended up in rejection. Uryu sighed. He knew that he was going to feel horrible for it, especially since Orihime had just gotten her own heart brake.

But, he didn't know if he could tell her that he loved her. He didn't know if it was in him to openly tell her of his affections. This was why he hated himself. He was a coward. Wishy-washy when it came to things like love. Ugh, why did he have to—

Uryu's ears pricked to the sound of footsteps.

"I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door...I've had you so many times but somehow I want more..."

His heart jumped. Uryu turned his head around and saw her. His love, his death. She was tying the plastic bag filled with his clothes into a knot.

And she was singing that song. That song...

_She will be loved._

She walked up to him and slowly bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet. The gingery auburn haired beauty handed him his clothes bashfully, yet desolate. "There you go, Ishida-kun."

His hand brushed Orihime's again and he pulled away after taking the white bag. Why couldn't love be easy? Why did it have to hurt so much, when it was suppose to make you feel so good? There were so many things he knew, but yet so many things he didn't understand. He just had to accept it.

"Thank you again, Inoue-san."

His heart was set.

As she walked to the door she shook her head and he silently followed. Orihime still felt horrible about bringing up his past love. Her curiosity messed up the moment they had, and she was deeply regretful. She couldn't explain how bad she felt. Orihime wished she hadn't made him feel bad. And it was just like her to kill the moment.

No words were exchanged until they finally reached her door.

She wondered if he hated her.

They both quietly stood there in the doorway, unmoving, and not speaking. Finally, she spoke up.

"Ishida-kun, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I really hope you can forgive me, but...it's okay if you don't. I understand. I wouldn't want to forgive me either. I opened up wounds that you were trying to heal, and I know firsthand how hard that is." She laughed lightly, but without humor. "I wish my powers could heal you."

Orihime didn't know how hard that hit him. It knocked the wind out of him, like if Chad had punched him square in the chest, but, he kept his composure. He had to.

"It's okay if you hate me. I deserve it."

_No you don't._

Finally, she opened the door. A spine chilling breeze flew in, along with rain, and she quickly shut the door. She didn't want him to go back outside in that weather. Yet, her possibilities were limited—she was just in his way, making him feel worse with every second.

"Ishida-kun, I—"

"Inoue-san. I could _never_ hate you. You don't deserve any feelings of hate whatsoever, mine or anyone else's. Don't ever say that you deserve it. No one can hate you, because you're not the kind of person to be hated."

Uryu looked straight into her gray eyes.

"I can't forgive you, because there's nothing to be forgiven. I should be thanking you, because you've helped me see things clearly." He chucked sadly. "Inoue-san, you didn't do anything wrong."

She didn't understand. He didn't hate her? And why was he thanking her? All she did was make him feel bad! Did he have to get all out of character at a time like this?

He grabbed her hand on the door knob, and her heart hastened its beats. Her face flushed at their close contact.

Tenderly, he stroked her fingers—they were warm compared to his cold ones. Soft compared to his rigid ones. She was innocent of blood and death, where he was inculpative of it.

They were complete opposites, but he still loved her—Uryu would always love Orihime.

"Love's not always rainbows and butterflies, it's compromise that moves us along. My heart is full and my door's always open," his eyes were glassy behind the glasses and he showed a look of pure love. "You come anytime that you want."

Letting go of her hand and opening the door, he turned to face her one last time. The windy rain crashed against his back, and he smiled despite the cold.

"And you will be loved, Inoue-san."

* * *

Orihime stood there. Motionless. Speechless.

Into the rain, into the storm, into the desolate gray street, he left her. He finally turned his back on her. With only those words:

"_And you will be loved, Inoue-san."_

His face. The smile he wore over his despondency. His voice. His love.

Uryu loved her. He loved her—stupid, ditzy Orihime Inoue. She was the girl he loved, the girl that was always right in front of him, making him love her more and more. She was the girl who ignored him, who tempted him, who loved Ichigo—she was the girl who didn't even notice his presence. She was the stupid girl who stepped on his emotions without even acknowledging his love.

Helping her, talking to her, saving her from harm—it was all because of love.

She was the one who was slowly killing him from the inside. Guilt hit her tenfold, and she was too shocked to cry. She was too shocked to move—too shocked to finally see things clearly for the first time.

The way he'd look at her, the way he'd smile at her when she said something totally irrelevant. Uryu cared for her; had gotten hurt for her—all because of her. And she was just too stupid to observe the people around her. The love that Ichigo had for Rukia, and the love that Uryu had for her.

She looked away from the door, and noticed his leather jacket still on her coat hanger. Small droplets of water still clung to the black material, and one lone drop fell from the collar and onto the floor. It hit, and splattered to the ground.

That's when she broke down. Her own tears fell from her gray eyes, falling down and soaking into her shirt. Quickly grabbing at the jacket, she clutched it close to her chest and opened the door. Running out, she looked into the street to look for Uryu. Rain splashed in her face, the freezing cold instantly causing her to shiver, but she didn't feel it. Orihime forced herself not to. She felt nothing except hurt and realization. She looked from one end of the street to the other—he was already gone.

"Ishida-kun!"

Glancing once, she ran towards the direction they both had came from—that bench that she had cried on. Orihime didn't know why she headed that way. Intuition? Yeah, what _good_ was her intuition? She wasn't even observant to the people around her.

She was the most terrible person in the world.

She sprinted that way, but quickly tripped as she ran through a puddle, and her body flew to the ground. She half expected Uryu to catch her—to save her—before she hit the concrete, but reality hit as she felt the cold stone crash against her body. She looked up, the jacket still tightly in her arms, and stared at the dark sky.

He loved her.

Hot tears dripped down her wet face and she closed her eyes.

_Ishida-kun._

And she loved him back.

* * *

Orihime stared blankly at the wall, hardly moving as she sat mutely in her desk. She was deaf of hearing, except for the voices echoing her name. But, even then she'd still ignore the voices—the voices of her friends: Tatsuki, Chizuru, Chad, Ichigo—her friends...

_...Uryu._

She couldn't get Uryu out of her mind. Her gray eyes lethargically glanced over to his desk. She had expected to see his stern figure sitting up straight and taking notes without a sound. His glasses reflecting off a bright glare as he stared at the chalkboard. With Uryu's black hair covering the profile of his stoic face, he'd look down and write a note about the lessons being taught. No part of his body would move, only with the exception of his strong forearm and hand writing in perfect handwriting. Strong, careful hands. But he wasn't there.

His desk was cold and empty. Just like her heart.

He wasn't even at school that day. She hadn't seen him at all since that night. That single night that he was over at her house. That night, two days ago.

Orihime gazed back at the wall. Her eyes were glazed, cloudy—they stared at the white, mundane texture of the classroom's wall, but her mind was only thinking of Uryu Ishida.

She was sitting in her usual seat by the window. Slowly, she glanced out of the glass, and into the sky, then back at the wall. It was amazing. Since that day with him, the weather had gotten worse and worse, darker with more rain. The wind seemed to slice through her skin, yet it didn't leave blood—just the iced feeling of the frosted winter breeze. Rain seemed to pour in sharp freezing sheets, one by one. But she didn't feel it.

Orihime was numb to it—her heart was numb to it.

The freezing cold didn't hurt her—it didn't crush her, rip her to shreds and make her bleed. It didn't _kill_ her.

But, the look of his dark navy blue eyes. That one expression alone crushed her. Killed her. Shot her in the heart. His look of love—pure and undeniable love; it was a love that she didn't deserve. A love that surpassed what she had felt for Ichigo. Those feelings for him were totally inept in comparison to Uryu's love. That torturous love that wrenched one's heart—heated it and then satisfied it. But, then the part of his love which hurt her was the indescribable, _indefinable_ sadness he must of felt all of those times being with her, alone or in their large string of friends. The understanding of his love, and all of the stupid times of her denial in which Orihime hated herself for, killed her.

She was the most horrible person of all for that. It was all so clear now. From the times he had saved her, or even talked to her. There was even the same even warmness in his voice when talking to her—when he was hurt or otherwise. Now that Ichigo wasn't clouding her feelings with the infatuation and puppy love she felt for him, the love he had for her was obvious.

Ichigo was like her brother. A tough, older brother to look out for her, much like her real brother.

But Uryu—he was more. More than a brother. More than a protector. He was so much more, and she didn't even acknowledge it.

Orihime gulped, and felt tears start to dam up in her eyes. She had cried after Uryu had left her house. She had cried everyday after school at home. Cried for him. Cried for his love. But, most importantly, she cried for herself and how stupid and ignorant she had been. Guilt was breaking her heart to more pieces than before. And it was her fault.

* * *

Ichigo stared at Orihime. Her eyes were glassy, almost to the brink of tears. He was concerned. There was something wrong with her.

She had been acting different for the past several days.

_She's been like totally out of character...what the hell's the matter? Damn..._

He's never seen her in that state—like her life was in utter chaos, and nothing was going right. Even when she was sad, she still kept the same bubbly personality, that same smile. In a weird sense, she was like a professional poker player, always keeping the same face, even when she was losing. He knew that was a _really_ crappy comparison about her expressions, but what the hell.

Yet, not now. Her "happy" walls were breached, and she was being attacked by some unseen and unknown force. To him, it was like she needed the "life version" of an Icy Hot pack.

Actually, to tell the truth, everything was all screwed up. He scowled and turned his head over to Uryu's desk. He _knew_ that the apocalypse was going to come when Uryu missed a day of school. Now, the whole human population was screwed—he had missed _two_ days. His perfect attendance was shot through the roof.

_Poor bastard, he's probably gonna cry when he finds out._

Ichigo looked back to Orihime. There was also something else wrong—like in her aura—that was emotionally odd and bringing her down. He wondered what was up.

The bell rang, and everyone started to quickly crowd out of the door. School was _finally_ over.

Orihime didn't get up, but Ichigo did, and started to walk towards her as she started to pack her bags.

Well, it was too bad that Ichigo didn't know that both Orihime's current condition and Uryu's disappearance were connected. Then maybe that _might_ have cleared things up.

It was also too bad that Ichigo was such a dumb-ass.

* * *

"Hey! Inoue-san?" Ichigo scratched the back of his head. He sucked at stuff like this. "Uhm, you haven't seemed like your usual self for the last few days, and I'm kinda...uh, y'know, wonderin' what's wrong."

She looked up at him blankly—unenthusiastically. "Really?" Her voice was flat. Now he was really getting worried. And it didn't help that talking all mushy and sentimental was not his thing.

Ichigo spotted the black material in her lap.

"Is that your jacket? Leather is a good idea since it's so freakin' _freezing_ out..."

No, conversations to break the ice (haha no pun intended) were _not_ his thing either.

Orihime's eyes questioned him, but then she knowingly looked down. Oh yeah. The jacket—_his_ _jacket_. She didn't know why she still had it. She didn't know why she was still bringing it to school since she knew that he wasn't going to be there to receive it back. She didn't know why she still carried with her, why she still held it in her arms.

Orihime felt the texture of the smooth leather under her fingertips. She caressed the small ravines of black wrinkles.

She knew why. Denial wasn't going to get the best of her. She wasn't going to mess things up this time. Not again.

"Inoue-san?"

She looked up at him, eyes still glassy with a small, sad smile.

"Kurosaki-kun, don't worry..."

She wasn't going to hurt Uryu anymore.

"I'm not falling apart."

* * *

Uryu lay motionless on his couch, gazing at the ceiling without expression. He was clothed in his Quincy outfit—the traditional white garment with blue stripes resembling the Quincy cross. The only thing distinguished on his apparel was the dark red slash on his arm, and various rips on the white material. Uryu didn't feel the sting of hurt though—the searing pain from the gash on his left forearm. Uryu would have cleaned himself and sewn up the cut, but he just went over to his midnight blue velvet couch to lay down.

The couch the color of his eyes, the couch the color of his emotions. Dark. Blue. Depressed—

_Apathetic._

He sighed. His muscles ached, and he was soaked with rain, but he didn't move. Just breathed, blinked, and reflected. After that confrontation with Orihime at her house, he just started to stop caring. He even didn't go to school—school didn't matter. He needed to free the pent up stress that started to eat up at him. So he went on a nonstop hollow pursuit, shooting down every one he had found. He even went so far as the outskirts of Karakura—the woods and almost into the next town.

The hollow that had given him the gash on his arm was a particularly nasty one—it shot out poison from spores on its back, had sharp claws, nails, teeth, and a very disgusting tongue that shot out a violet and green phlegm. The body of the hollow morphed into different shapes, and was hard to shoot down as it moved. It was extremely fast too, which did take its toll on the exasperated Uryu. It had lunged at him and he had just barely dodged out of the way. He did eventually take it down, but got the cut due to the result of fighting it.

"Damn. I'm getting slow."

He didn't know why he was intentionally trying to hurt himself. Maybe, just to feel something _other_ than the emotional pain—a physical pain. He laughed sarcastically to himself.

_Love makes people do stupid things._

He sighed and closed his eyes.

_But I'm just being idiotic._

Yet, maybe not. He finally let all of his feelings out, and the heavy load was finally off of his shoulders. Though a great weight had been lifted after telling Orihime he loved her, he still felt the shadow _of_ the weight. But still, maybe this was how it felt, the final release and confession of love—love, that damned emotion! He could live so much without it, but then _couldn't_ live without it.

_Tch. Irony. Story of my life._

And I was all because of her—Orihime Inoue. It was all because he couldn't stop falling in love with her. He couldn't help but save her when she was down. If only he could have killed that chivalrous personality of his at those times of need. But then, not being able to save her from her pain, her anguish, would have killed _him_ instead. Besides, he couldn't change his personality.

_Loneliness. My life story's spin-off._

He smiled slightly. His humor has always sucked.

* * *

**So…this isn't the last chapter. **_**Oh my freaking goodness**_**. All I wanted at first was this story to be a one-shot! Now it's like a **_**freaking four chapter fic! **_**Ugh. Dude, I noticed that I posted this story like about a year ago. Dang. I suck at updating. You people can hate me. It's okay.**

**Anyways, please review! Would be greatly appreciated! Thanks again for reading this work of tedious fiction, you guys are awesome. Please point out grammatical issues and typos, if possible. Tell me if in-between paragraphs if it says "(Line thing)". I use that to remember where I want the paragraph breaks. **This wasn't the best chapter in the world (it sucked). **I decided to finish the chapter at this point, because if I didn't, it would be, like, **_**seventeen pages**_**. That's a lot of words in one sitting. *dies***

**Btw I drew like a Christmas card thingy. I can send like an e-card to you guys if you want me too. Just add it in the review, or you can email me saying that you want it. I willfully give my email to you on my profile page, so yeah. It's just Ishida in a Santa hat. It's kinda cute :3 **


	4. Back at Your Door

**I'm disappointed with myself. You all will all find out at the end of the chapter. Ugh. Clearly in recent chapters there are obvious hints that Ishida likes Inoue (chapter 346). Very cute, but very sad moments I must say—because there is **_**no chance**_** of them getting together. But I'm in denial so it's all good.**

**Random side note 1: The fic will **_**eventually**_** stop being emo. **

**Random side note 2: In—retrospect—I—use—**_**a lot—**_**of—dashes.**

**Random side note 3: Think about it: 'awkward' is spelled rather awkwardly.**

* * *

_Beauty queen of only eighteen  
She had some trouble with herself  
He was always there to help her  
She always belonged to someone else_

* * *

That song repeated over and over in her head.

His words repeated over and over in her head.

The truth repeated over and over in her head.

The rain poured down threateningly, but her warm tears didn't fall with the cold tears of the clouds. Her gray eyes remained dry and dead set as they stared straight ahead on her concrete path. The heels of her shoes clicked on the sidewalk briskly, syncing along with the thick drops of water falling from the dark sky above. With Uryu's jacket held tightly in her grasp, Orihime walked in the southeastern direction to his apartment determined on getting things finally right.

* * *

_I drove for miles and miles  
And wound up at your door  
I've had you so many times but somehow  
I want more..._

* * *

She imagined his strong arms around her, shielding her protectively from the rain—his equally as strong hands holding hers, and then his fingers wiping the tears from her face. With him there with her, she wouldn't have to fake her smiles—fake her meaningless laughs. He would be there, his glasses gleaming with loving taciturnity, making everything better with just his shy presence and security. He had even kissed her forehead, and she thought he was acting out of character. Orihime mentally shook her head negatively at the recollection.

No, he wasn't out of character. That _was_ his character—he was caring, sensitive, and strong. His personality was chivalrous, and he always put himself last—never before anyone else. Never before her. His love for her was too great.

A strong gust of suspended wind blew against her, and she finally sensed the cold gnaw rawly on her warm, tender skin. Absentmindedly, she slipped her arms through the sleeves of the leather jacket, and zipped the material halfway up her body to keep the wet out. Orihime inhaled the sweet musky scent of the jacket through the rain, and it smelled of the same scent on that day—on the bench when she was crying for Ichigo. His scent lingered on the collar—it was a scent that was vaguely familiar, yet as it mixed with rainwater, it threw off her senses. It was a scent that she couldn't stop inhaling without feeling an aftershock of pain, but yet she couldn't help but enjoy the aftershock of happiness and love. The warmth of the jacket washed over her even as the rain still poured, and it felt as though his arms were around her—keeping her safe; loving her through her mishaps. Orihime turned the corner with a deep breath.

She was going to return his love, and Ichigo wasn't going to be in the way this time.

_No...not Ichigo..._

It wasn't Ichigo's fault. It was her fault. It was her fabricated love —her newfound sisterly love— for Ichigo that wasn't going to be in the way. Orihime was going to make sure that all of her faults would be made up for, even if she had lost all of her chances to make things right. She would make her own chance—she was going to be the strong one this time. Orihime was going to be the savior. She was going to save him from his own pain. She was tired of Uryu, or even of Ichigo, being the hero.

Orihime grinned softly to herself, and she mentally clenched her fist in triumph.

She was going to be the hero this time.

* * *

_I don't mind spending everyday  
__Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
__Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

* * *

Uryu could still remember every lyric, every stanza of that song; he could still remember her voice singing those exact words.

* * *

_And she will be loved  
She will be loved..._

* * *

He could still feel her hair, feel her warm skin. Her hot tears. Her cold body in his grasp.

As he laid there, on his midnight blue couch in his living room, he imagined every line of her face. Her eyes, her sheepish smile. Uryu smiled slightly at the thought. It hurt to think it, but she was rather cute when she blushed.

The rich sound of heavy rain could be heard as he reflected to himself. Raising his left arm up, he examined the cut on his forearm apathetically. The slash wasn't that deep—the dried blood on the white material of his clothes and the coagulated blood on his skin exaggerated how bad the cut really was. He's had worse, that was for sure. He blinked, and set his arm back down, slightly cringing as the couch brushed against the stinging gash.

* * *

_Tap on my window, knock on my door  
I want to make you feel beautiful_

* * *

The scars on his heart were the worst.

_Is this really what love feels like?_

He sighed—he didn't know anymore. Before, he thought he could control his emotions, his mind, and his actions—he thought that he could keep that stoic equanimity. He needed to face the truth—things like that weren't controllable. Humans —their souls— were like free flowing rivers, and love was the huge boulder in the middle, blocking their path. It was futile to attempt moving back up the river to avoid the '_love boulder_', and either you hit the boulder and get _hurt_, or float down smoothly and around it. In his case, Uryu's finally stopped swimming upstream and he hit the boulder head-on. Now, he was just around the river bend floating face down.

He scowled to himself.

_A 'Pocahontas' allusion? I'm really reaching the lowest point of my life..._

He was in an emotional, inner conflicted mid life crisis—subtracting the fact that he was only eighteen years old. Love wasn't something he was particularly accustomed to—something he wasn't accustomed to _feeling_. It had been so long since he'd felt any type of love whatsoever. His mother, and then his grandfather were both gone from him. His father, no—_Ryuuken_, didn't give him love. Only contempt towards him, and his desire to be a Quincy—towards the desire to protect the handful of people he loved. All of the years he spent trying to make him proud were for nothing. Uryu couldn't recall a time when his father had shown him love, or had even given him respect.

And then years later he met his friends. Well, his technical enemies. Love and friendship, these were things he had never felt before with other people—and it was a great feeling. A _wonderful_ feeling. He had friends that cared about him—people who actually valued his abilities without scorn like his _father_ who was only interested in making a profit.

The Quincy archer smiled softly.

And then his inevitable and growing love for the gingery auburn haired princess that had cultivated in his heart for the past few years.

_Inoue-san..._

He truly did love her. He loved everything about her—even those obliviously random and ridiculous foibles and idiosyncrasies.

* * *

_I know I tend to get so insecure  
Doesn't matter anymore_

* * *

He shook his head—did it really not matter anymore? Was Uryu just being a coward again? He had told her his feelings in the best way he could—a way that would give her the direct message of his love in a way he _knew_ she would understand. But, this _backslide_ of deep emotion was tearing him apart; just how _long_ could he avoid it? Was he having second thoughts?

He sighed thoughtfully, and began to sit up. Slowly, he stood up from the couch, and walked over to his room to change out of his wet and bloodied clothes. He ignored the sharp stings of the dry, blood matted cut on his forearm as his limb swayed at his side while he strode out of the warm circumambient light of the livingroom. He was thinking too much—like always. Uryu nonchalantly glanced at a darkened spot on his carpet; there was blood on the floor.

Uryu could avoid —_ignore_— it long enough...

At least until he saw her face again.

* * *

Orihime's heart instantly started to beat anxiously when Uryu's street came into the view of her gray eyes. The rain was now a light, foggy drizzle, and it seemed as though the closer she came to reaching his apartment, the lighter the rain would fall. Maybe it was a sign—she didn't completely know, but she _did_ know what she had to do. She breathed faster after checking each address, and with every apartment that _wasn't_ his, her heart would uneasily pulsate. Orihime was nervous; she was afraid; she was anxious; she was terrified. She was hurt. Her heart beat abnormally fast—the emotions that bombarded her made her want to die for suffering the one she loved.

But then...

Orihime felt like she could fly to the moon and back. She was ecstatic and overjoyed—she felt as if she was something beautiful in an ugly place. She attained something inexplicable—and it was love. Love, and the very thought of Uryu loving her made her want to jump up and down and sing out to the people around her. She felt as if this love —and their love for each other— was the only thing right in the world. The very thought of him loving someone like her—she found that ironic, and even a little funny, though it was a good funny; it was a loving funny. Love was something so full of wonder and warmth with so many people desiring it, yet only some acquiring it. She smiled to herself.

Ishida Uryu—the stoic, cold, and sometimes overly dramatic Quincy. Ishida Uryu, her funny and cutely shy classmate, friend, and...perpetual lover?

Orihime passed another apartment and blushed to herself. No, they weren't lovers. She didn't even know if they were still _friends_. Her smile sadly disappeared.

* * *

_It's not always rainbows and butterflies  
It's compromise that moves us along  
__My heart is full and my door's always open  
You come anytime you want _

* * *

After one last building her sad gray eyes finally found the right address. _His_ address. She looked up at his apartment—it was a simple establishment, with steps leading up into the stoop and then the front door. To the left of the door there was a window. His lights were on, and her small flame of hope sparked brighter.

_I'll fix things. I'm the hero this time, the one who'll save people. Like Wonder Woman, or a fireman, or a mall rent-a-cop...or the nice people at H&R Block who help people with their taxes! _

Orihime clenched her fist triumphantly.

_I am the Dark Knight, I am...Batman! _

With love and determination, not to mention some incongruity, she walked up the wet concrete steps.

* * *

Entering the classroom from lunch, Orihime bubbly grinned at her friend. She had been listening to Maroon 5 nonstop for the past few days, and it fueled her actions, her mind, her smile, and her speech.

"Tatsuki! Don't you just _love_ that song?!"

"Hmm...?" Tatsuki shrugged, tired and not really in the mood for her friend's enthusiasm. She had just lost a tournament the previous day, and it sucked every ounce of enthusiasm out of her. "I dunno, it's_ okay _I guess."

Orihime looked at Tatsuki wide eyed. "What do you mean 'it's _okay_'? 'She Will Be Loved' is one of the best songs ever! It's so sweet! You can tell that the guy singing really cares and loves the girl in it, and that he'd do basically _anything_ to make her feel happy, even in the rain and that whenever she was sad that she could always run to him! It also shows that the guy has a tender side to him...and that he loves her very much!"

Tatsuki sighed. "True—"

"Yeah, but _I_ think that the singer is really a girl, and is trying to tell the other girl in the song that she really really wants her!" Chizuru somewhat rudely cut Tatsuki's agreement off.

Orihime looked at her two friends, who, naturally, started to fight. She shook her head disapprovingly at each exchange of tensely strained words. Even though she was accustomed to Chizuru making a moment awkward and then Tatsuki punching or kicking her in various places, she still didn't like it.

_That's not very nice...why do they always have to fight?_

Even to the point of excess, there was always fighting, fighting, _fighting_.

With an exasperated deep breath, Orihime walked over to a desk by the window and sat down. She gazed up at the blue sky, now oblivious to the bickering clamor of her two friends. It was such a beautiful day—so beautiful, so cloudless, that there was no possible way that the weather would worsen. The rich cerulean blue overwhelmed her with a mystic beauty, and suddenly she started to think back to that song. Her hums evolved into a rhythm of words. That song —'She Will Be Loved'— was tender and reassuring; it was filled with such a deep passionate love that it overwhelmed her even more than gazing up at the sky.

* * *

_I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

* * *

Love that didn't abandon, and love that didn't isolate. It was a deep love that welcomed with warm and open arms—where the one who loved her would stand out in the pouring rain, holding her, sheltering her, and loving her. One who would fix her broken smiles, and love her for just being her—Orihime Inoue, the one who blurted out random things, the one who ate weird combinations of food, the one safely caught in the arms of her lover after she fell. Just thinking about it made her chest hurt with lonely emotion, yet gave her a sensation of happiness at the same time.

The truest of love possible—a love she wished to feel.

Hidden in the gaze of his dark navy blue eyes contained the very love he wished to give her.

* * *

Zipping up a new clean shirt, Uryu sighed to himself. The clothes that Orihime had let him wear were staring up at him from where they were laying on a chair in his room. Yes, he had _washed_ them, yes he had _dried_ them, and yes he was now _staring_ at them. The red long sleeved shirt and khaki pants stared back. Uryu's navy blue eyes burnt holes through each layer of mocking fabric; he scowled lightly, and his sleek black eyebrows creased together in vexation.

His mind returned to that day in the classroom, and the events immediately following it—the rain, her house, him leaving. Then his recklessness. And finally his waist-deep wallowing in self-made self-pity.

Uryu had thoroughly cleaned the gash on his arm and thoroughly bandaged it up, albeit the sting of hydrogen peroxide still lingered in his wound. He raised an eyebrow briefly—hydrogen peroxide was used to bleach hair.

Instantly, the Quincy scowled to himself once more, and turned away from his borrowed clothes.

_That bastard Kurosaki is _everywhere_ with his damned orange hair!—if he had a novel or show about his life it would be titled 'Bleach'!_

Kurosaki—the main character, the strongest character, the great soul reaper—the one everybody loved. The one guy who always got the girl, the one guy who had friends, and the one guy who was envied _for having_ those friends.

Uryu took a deep breath and looked back at his —well, _her_— clothes. A humorless chuckle softly emitted from his mouth.

_If _I_ had a novel, or even just a short story, it would probably be something by a hopelessly romantic teenager trying to produce a second-rate piece of mediocre writing titled something excessively ridiculous...like 'Owners of Lonely Hearts' or something ineptly stupid like that. Maybe even 'She Will Be Loved'. _

He sighed.

_Love—foolish._

Yet, those were his feelings—just a foolish teenage love story with him not wanting to admit the truth. Uryu looked away from the clothes for the last time, and his eyes became instantly locked with his own dark blue gaze within a mirror hanging on the wall. There was a small cut on his face that he hadn't noticed since now. He looked deep into his eyes, and stared down the growing contempt which was clouded in navy blue.

* * *

_And she will be loved  
She will be loved_

* * *

Regardless of his hurt, and regardless of his inner contempt for himself, he smiled lightly at the humor of the circumstance.

He was a fool_._

* * *

**I had to cut off the chapter! This **_**would have been the last one**_**, but, freaking…I'm in my emo hole! Plus, it was reaching thirteen pages, and that's A LOT. I'm disappointed with myself. I chopped off freaking four pages. It looks so skimpy!...Please review! Would be greatly appreciated! Grammatical errors and typos are welcome to point out.**

**I'm salmon-ing up my emo hole (if you don't understand what that means, or think it sounds dirty, ask me about it—I'll explain), so I'll **_**try**_** to update soon. I finished the epilogue before finishing the last chapters too. I think it's funny. You guys might. Though, with my horrible updating, I would think that none of you like me anymore. **


	5. Won't Go Home Without You

**So, I bought **_**Bleach: **__**Memories of Nobody**_** off iTunes…and that Senna chick has major ADHD. When Orihime was healing Ichigo I was like "AH SNAP!", and when Uryu was standing there, arms crossed like a _bamf_ I was like "(fangirl squee)".**

**But then I feel really immature (**_**if not already**_**), cuz when Rukia said, "Ichigo, what are you doing?" I immediately yell out "NOT ORIHIME!!!", and when Ichigo starts riding Renji's giant monkey-snake, it just goes **_**downhill**_** from there. YEAH LAST CHAPTER! And I say this now: it is **_**hella**_** long, so pace yourselves! I don't want any of you to get bored. Use that new story marks thinger, or drink a V8 or something xP**

* * *

Orihime stared at his front door in mental disarray. She followed the song and what Uryu had said—she knocked on the door. The first time was ever so soft, so she knocked harder, and harder, and harder; so hard in fact after a while her hand began hurting. She knew that he was home—she could sense him inside. Maybe he didn't hear her? Orihime scratched at her wet hair in mild perplexity. It was still raining. That could be a factor relating to his deafness. Her eyebrows scrunched together—with her brain trying to devise an _ingenious plan_. Suddenly, her gray eyes shifted to his window, and then to the trash can underneath it.

'Ingenious' was an overstatement, and she grinned despite that known fact. She fluttered gracefully over to his window.

Securing the wet lid of Uryu's trash can, and then transferring it to a more aptly suited position under his window, Orihime began to daringly climb up on top of it. There was a small extension of building leading away from the window, and it was the perfect handhold to keep steady from falling. Rain trickled down the roof and onto her hair and forehead; the water slightly stung and blinded as it dripped down into her eyes—down her determined face. Before looking into his window, a small thought drifted into her mind.

_Wait, isn't this...sort of...illegal?_

She blinked. Orihime conscientiously looked around at her surroundings. Nobody was out. Not even any cars were out—nonetheless, she was still aware.

_What if someone thinks I'm a peeping Tom or something? I'm Orihime, not Tom! Wh-what if he is taking a bath in the living room and I accidentally see him...naked?_

She instantly shook her head negatively as her face flushed an abnormal pigment of scarlet. Uryu isn't the kind of person to take a bath in the living room! That's silly! _She_ was the type of person to do something like that, not him! She pushed the thought out of her head—lanky movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention immediately. Her gray eyes flashed up and into his window, and the sight of him walking into the room engulfed her senses.

And as her mind didn't slip from the mere sight of his shocked navy blue eyes, her feet did.

* * *

He gloomily left his dark room in a slight melancholy daze. The journey out of the bedroom led into a hallway, and from Uryu's hall led into the small living room of his lonely abode. He walked out of the dark tunnel-like hall and into the warm yellowy-orange luminance of the living room; a tired, yet questionable expression was painted on his face.

_Hmn?_

Uryu had heard knocking. _On his door_. Unbeknownst (that's a cool word) to him, a small flare of hope lit like the small aspirant flame of a match. Maybe...it was Orihime? No—it couldn't be her. She didn't love him. Maybe...she was trying to give him his homework? He hadn't been to school in two days, three if he counted today—no. Nobody knew where he lived...well, he _thought_ they didn't. Maybe...she did love him?

* * *

_I know where you hide  
Alone in your car  
__Know all of the things  
__That make you who you are_

* * *

Denial extinguished his flame. _Maybe_ he was just going even crazier than he anticipated and was just _hearing_ things. That was an even more logical explanation than Orihime going over to his house for anything of the sort. And, honestly, he didn't even know what he would do if she _was_ to come over.

He quickly thought of the words he told her.

Why was he beating himself up about this? He was acting like he was going through rejection! How could he be feeling like this hurt when nothing actually happened?

All he did was tell her that he loved her. Well, in a metaphorical sense. Maybe he didn't convey the feelings that he had wanted—she had been pining over that song like she lived by it. He clenched his teeth, he just didn't know!

Besides, she still loved Ichigo. That was one thing he couldn't forget. That very thing alone was forever burned into his mind, and so he was _sure_ that she could never love him back. Orihime had loved him for so many years now, that lucky shinigami bastard Ichigo, that it was completely, irrevocably _unreal_ for her to romantically love anyone else. Everyone saw the love she held for Ichigo in her heart, everyone saw the stares she aimed towards him, and everyone heard the different tone of voice when she spoke to him. Uryu was jealous of it—that was one thing that he couldn't deny. But, he was only human. Well, they were all human…just in a weird…abnormally complex way.

Suddenly, Uryu glanced at the motion outside of his window—his dark blue eyes dilated in shock, fright, and even a giddy excitement; Uryu's heart skipped multiple beats. His dark blue eyes locked with her bright gray ones for less than a second, and before either of them could blink, a flash of gingery auburn hair was the last thing that he saw from her.

* * *

_Inoue-san!_

He sprinted to the door. No thoughts clouded his mind. He forgot all of his past worries—there wasn't any space left for containing those menial worries that clouded his doleful thoughts. The only worry on his mind was Orihime. Only her. _Just_ her. With a flash and gust of cold rain, he jumped over the side of his stoop, not caring about the atrocious possibilities of his actions. His love could go to the very depths of Dante's nine steps of _Inferno_, if only he could help her—protect her, at least this once. Time stopped for both of them.

Uryu caught her with nimble excellence and wrapped his strong arms tightly around her. If he had time to scowl, he would at that exact moment—she was soaked, and was on top of his trash can while it was wet. _That_ was a dangerous _hazard_.

Another _hazard_ was the wet ground—he lost his footing due to the strength of her momentum and fell with her in his grasp. Manipulating the force, he tucked her in and twisted backwards. Uryu crashed against the brick wall of his apartment, thankful that he absorbed all of the contact. His body could go to hell too.

"Owie..."

Uryu's heart almost stopped.

* * *

_I know that goodbye  
__Means nothing at all  
Comes back and begs me to  
__Catch her every time she falls…_

* * *

"Are you hurt?" He asked briskly.

Her voice was soft and just above a whisper, "N-no, just a little scrape..."

Dark blue eyes narrowed—he hated the thought of her hurt.

_Even if it's just a scratch._

His arms didn't loosen—they only gripped tighter—and Uryu vaguely knew why. Orihime could feel the hasty beat of his heart against her own chest. Their beats matched, and she gulped silently. Their position may have looked compromising from afar by a random bystander—Orihime lay limply against him, their chests pressed together and her head in the crook of his neck. A small droplet of water dripped from the roof to his glasses—time stopped—and Uryu stared up at the light gray color of the mourning sky. One minute equaled a hundred before either of them spoke.

"Ishida-kun, I—"

"Why are you here, Inoue-san?"

She could sense a returned apathy seep back into his voice; it was familiar.

"I wanted...to—I came here to..." She couldn't believe herself. She didn't know what to say, her jumbled thoughts wouldn't form into words. _She loved him._ Was it hard to just say that? She could blurt out the worst question ever, but she couldn't say three simple words? _I love you. I love you!_ Three formed to five, and left a trail of sharp sting as they were spoken. "...I brought your jacket back."

Any hope Uryu held in his heart died. He felt the sting, and replied with it magnified.

"I don't give a _damn_ about that jacket. Why did you bring it back?"

Instead of answering, Orihime cringed in regret as her courage was lost. He felt it. His voice softened, a little bit of himself returned.

"Inoue-san, you know as well as I do that you shouldn't be here." Uryu forced his arms off of her. "You don't belong here...with me."

_Why can't I stay?_

He pushed her away, but she wouldn't budge—she clung on to him. Looking up at him with tormented eyes and their gazes locked.

"What do you mean 'I don't belong here with you'? You're the one that said I can come here anytime that I want. You said that all I would have to do was knock on the door—t-tap on the…" Her bottom lip started to tremble, but he coolly evaded her question.

_I want to be here with you. Why can't you see that?_

"You should go back home, or you'll get sick," his eyes shifted away. He couldn't even look her in the eye. "I couldn't stand you getting sick or even hurt because of wanting to visit me—"

"How can I be hurt by you?" Her voice resounded with emotional skepticism. "W-Why would you think of something like that? No, you could _never_ hurt me!"

Uryu scoffed at himself with contempt.

"I already have. I dumped all of my feelings onto you when you were already hurt by Kurosaki. I promised myself that I could wait for you, but I was lying to myself. I shouldn't have...I couldn't hold it in, I couldn't be flawless...I had to be _weak_." His body tensed, and his voice was overwrought. "I revealed weakness to you. That's all I am. _Weak_."

Weak—a word he had been accustomed to lately.

Orihime closed her eyes, and took a silent deep breath. She sensed everything around her—the wet concrete, his apartment building, the quiet sounds of the block. It wasn't raining. The sharp pointed drops of cold water ceased to fall—the terse sounds of rain falling to the ground like small glass marbles. It stopped.

* * *

_Tap on my window, knock on my door  
I want to make you feel beautiful_

* * *

Finally, it all stopped.

"Ishida-kun..." She opened her eyes, "I...love you."

She expected happiness, one of many things—but she only received a blank stare. Uryu's dark blue eyes were wide and illegible; there was a flicker of something was caught in his gaze—and it was disbelief. He shook his head negatively, causing her heart started to nervously pulsate, until he choked.

"No. _No_. T-That's not true. You...you _can't love me_! You love _Kurosaki_!" His navy eyes flared, and his jaw clenched tightly. "All along, you've loved him! There was never a time when you stopped thinking of him—and never once have you ever thought of me…it was always…_him_."

Uryu was never one to indulge. He wasn't that kind of person. Yet, he seemed to be learning new things every day, and with that, he had been doing a lot of indulging. Some things just couldn't be helped! He was indulging on pain, on loss, on love. Love? No.

She didn't _love_ him. He was the leftover. He was the replacement—the temporary substitution. His dark navy blue eyes narrowed—Uryu hated that feeling: being the damn _rebound_.

"Inoue-san, I told you before: you can't get over someone that you've loved for so long that fast. I told you that it takes time. Time, Inoue-san, time! _Three days can't fix things_! You can't love me in just three days! Damn it, it just doesn't _work_ that way…"

The walls were closing in on him once again. He felt the urge to run. But would he run from her, now that she was actually there?

_She's always there, right in front of me._

"Do you doubt my love for you?"

Uryu looked down at her, shock in his dark eyes. Tenaciously, her hands tightly gripped his shirt. It choked him—he needed to be free. He needed space. He needed more time.

He just needed her.

"L-Let me go."

"Ishida-kun, I w—"

"Let me go! Inoue-san, just let go of me and go home!"

She wouldn't deny him anymore. Forcefully, Orihime freed him from her grasp and he briskly left her intimate presence. One step, two steps, he increased their distance from each other. She was too close, he needed air…

"Do you doubt my love for you?" Her voice was strained, repeated and indignant, yet it penetrated through his skull. She wanted an answer from him, and she wasn't going to stop asking until he answered her. Orihime knew that talking to him was going to be hard, but this was something she _had_ to do.

Uryu made it to the entrance steps of his stoop, and stopped. He clenched his fists in frustration, and the cut on his arm, much like his heart, throbbed with a numbing pain. Swiftly, he pivoted on the toes of his shoes, and fluidly turned around to face her. A supercilious expression was upon his face, yet anemically there was a shadow of exasperation—like he finally gave up. Uryu needed to get things clear, because to him, it seemed that she _didn't get the point_.

"I don't know. I just don't know anymore. Maybe I do doubt it, your _love_. Love isn't a thing to be played with, and _I don't like my emotions being played with_. I always thought that you could love me. I'd try imagining it, but even then, you only cared about Kurosaki. Every time I saw you, he was always right there. I used to hope that those looks you'd give him you could give to me, but I gave up on that. I gave up on a lot of things, and through all of it, I've learned to take in life with disappointment." He instantly thought of the cold face of his father. "I can't afford to be dependent on things that will just hurt me in the end."

Uryu spoke softly, but every word was drenched in a harsh undertone, full of hurt, and full of sadness. He kept the never-ending coolness in his voice, but it only helped so much. His eyebrows were tilted down—his facial expression a scowl. He tilted his head imperceptibly towards her, and his glasses glared off a reflection of gray sky and dark navy blue eyes. Uryu didn't need love.

"You've loved Kurosaki for so long, it's hard to believe that you could ever love me the same."

Orihime soaked in everything that he said, and her heart swelled. But, she made an underhanded move, and it proved to get her point through his clouded head. He was too chivalrous and well-mannered to take lightly to a devious statement, even if he acted imperturbable, and she would get through to him by any means necessary.

"You're right, I could never _love_ you the same way I _loved_ him, Ishida-kun."

Uryu's eyes widened in disbelief and her words stabbed him, like a dark, black sword through the chest—did she have to kick him while he was already down and out? The way Orihime emphasized love…he didn't know that she was so capable of such a low blow; maybe he didn't even know her at all—

"…it's impossible for me to _love_ you the same way, because what I had for him wasn't _love_."

Their hearts beat, their hearts ached—her heart revealed more to him than he knew.

"Ishida-kun, I was wrong. I'm always wrong..." Her voice trailed off softly, and she looked down. "I was blind. I couldn't see that he loved Kuchiki all this time, and not me. I know this, I understand this. You said that I needed time—I've _had _time, I've had _days_. But I've realized that these feelings are of love. I love you, Ishida-kun. You have this special place in my heart, and so does Kurosaki-kun, but your place is bigger—you fill me up with feelings that I can't even describe."

She smiled a little, yet didn't dare to look up at his critical eyes.

"I know that you understand what I mean—you feel these feelings too." Her grin started to vanish, and her voice faltered once more with every word, "I just wish that I could have realized sooner, I wish I could have stopped myself from hurting you this long. I wish I could be just a little more perfect for you, Ishida-kun. Then maybe I could actually deserve someone like you."

* * *

_I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

* * *

Orihime finally looked up at him—her meek glance connected with his dark, navy blue basilisk gaze. His eyes were undecipherable, unrecognizable, but she accepted that. She could deal with rejection—she _had _been dealing with rejection. But, the damage was done. Orihime couldn't change that, nor would she. She was happy that she knew that he loved her—she was happy that he stopped her meaningless chase for Ichigo_—her Kurosaki-kun_. Of all things, she was happy that he still had and _gave_ the time to listen to her.

"And, it's okay if you don't want to be with me. I could only assume that you don't want to anyway, after all I've really put you through. I know that you don't really open up about things, and that you'd rather keep your feelings inside, but I'm glad that you were able to tell me, to just talk to me."

Orihime wasn't bitter, and his dark blue eyes saw this.

"You really are a wonderful person, Ishida-kun."

He couldn't sort out the way he felt. His heart burst with joy, burst with contentment—yet he was still reluctant—impassive. Why was it so hard for him to just _go _with things?—go with damned the flow? He was too mechanical! Too technical! Why couldn't he just stop _thinking _and go with what his heart was telling him, and not his damn insecurities?

Just to step out of his comforts, and take a chance with it—she loved him! She actually, _finally_ loved him back! After all of the pain, after all of the doubts, after _everything_, Orihime loved him. Her voice was sincere; her words were not rehearsed—not practiced with a fabricated lie to give satisfaction and assurance to him, just to make the current situation better.

Orihime's eyes didn't lie. They never lied, they were incapable of lying, and this he knew.

And for the first time that day, Uryu actually took in her full features. What she was wearing, where she was standing. Her eyes were warm, and her face was slightly flushed pink as little droplets of water trickled down from her gingery auburn hair. Orihime was so _beautiful_. He loved her—he loved her so, so much. For her, Uryu would lose an arm, a limb, his life—she didn't know how many close times he was to _dying _just to protect her, just to be able to see her smile, to laugh.

So would he let her go now, knowing that she was lost from him, maybe forever?

* * *

_And she will be loved  
And she will be loved_

* * *

She didn't give him anymore time to think.

Orihime gingerly walked towards him—with every light step, and with every approaching foot closer, she could perfectly see his chest rise and fall with every tantalizingly breath—she even noticed his fists held tightly to his sides, terse and stoic. Locks of glossy black hair were blatantly stuck to his wet face, and a vitrified reflection of his piercing eyes could be seen through his glasses, slowly dripping with rain. He didn't move—he remained in his staggered statue-esque pose, just looking straightly at her, his navy blue eyes interlocked in a reserved, yet self-protective gaze into her own gray stare.

Closer...closer...

She was just inches, _milliseconds_, away now. The puff of hot air around his mouth could now be seen—she didn't notice how cold it had gotten. The world was coming back to her, and the numbness she had felt was diminishing with the ceasing space between them. Orihime could feel the brisk air—her senses were returning to her in a dazed bliss as she looked up at him. A rebellious blush appeared on her complying cold face.

His eyes widened at her meek contact. Uryu's heart skipped beats as she softly—_timidly_ wrapped her arms around him in a humbled embrace.

She was now at peace with herself; the hurt was now gone from her heart. Orihime smiled a little—she was going to take his hurt away, too.

And as if realization couldn't hit her enough that day, Orihime discovered how _right _it felt with Uryu in her grasp like that, and just as it had comforted her in the rain two days before, it was comforting her now. She rested her head against his strong chest and closed her eyes, letting all of her insecurities drift away carelessly with their tranquil surrounding. The smell of a newly stopped rain engulfed her senses with a musky, newly fresh scent, and Orihime listened to Uryu's steady, anxious heartbeat. She absorbed his never-ending warmth. If possible, she could, and would, stay there forever.

"I just wanted one more chance to make it right. The weight of the things that remained unspoken built up so much...it crushed us every day, Ishida-kun, I know it did. It crushed _me _every day—a-and, all the things I felt...I...never really showed..." She stopped, but held onto him tighter, hoping that would squelch the oncoming tears starting to flow from her gray eyes. "Perhaps the worst is that I ever let you go...I should not have _ever _let you go."

Slowly, Uryu looked down, and gulped. Life started entering back into his eyes—the remnants of his past self started to return, filling him with warmth, replacing the unfelt numbness. He could smell the sweet, natural fragrance of her gingery auburn hair enter into his nostrils, and, he couldn't help but get intoxicated with her there like that, next to him—near him ever so close. Uryu's once pale, frigid cheeks flushed a light pink pigment upon his skin, and he began to feel the earth return. A lone droplet of rainwater slid chillingly down his face, and down into her damp hair.

* * *

_And she will be loved  
__And she will be loved_

* * *

It wasn't a matter of doubt anymore—of him against the world, of him fighting for her, only for her to be gone and lost from him, Orihime an enigma that couldn't be caught. Uryu wanted to wrap his arms around her—he wanted to return the embrace tenfold. He wanted to smile, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to dance!—no no no, he was too reserved for that. But, then…

He was happy, truly happy. Uryu was happy enough to be speechless—and he was _aphasic_. His heart was carefree, the resolve in her words ecstatically let his emotions roam to the very depths of love. Love that emotion he had hated, the emotion that he now _loved_.

And Orihime _loved _him!

It was such an amazing revelation, it paralyzed him with never-ending positive emotion—his feet were firmly planted to the ground, both as heavy as blocks of lead, stuck there, immobile on the concrete sidewalk. His arms were, as it seemed, glued to his sides, also immobile. The only things Uryu could do were blink and breath. So this was what returned love felt like? It was wonderful!—what he would do just to be able to move, those damned nerves of his!

Orihime didn't once look up at him, but instead felt his body language. Uryu would tense up, then relax—his chest heaved, desperate for breath it seemed. If only he would say something! Anything! He seemed uncomfortable and aloof—Orihime was misreading him. She needed some type of reciprocation, even just some acknowledgment; her courage was diminishing fast—but she wouldn't cry. No, she wouldn't burden him with that, but there was just one more thing that she had to do.

There needed to be closure.

His heart beat in tremors...Uryu didn't realize he was holding his breath until she started to speak once more. He could feel the vibrations of her voice against his chest and her sweet voice ring in his ears. Anxiously gulping, Uryu glanced down at her.

* * *

_Please don't try  
__So hard to say goodbye_

* * *

Orihime's arms released him from their hold, and she placed her gentle hands lightly on his chest. Through unbelievably long eyelashes, and dewy gingery auburn bangs, she looked up at him with soft gray eyes. Their gazes interlocked as each pair of eyes were unfazed by deep attraction.

"Ishida-kun—U-Uryu..." Orihime took a deep, _extremely nervous _breath.

What possessed, what _compelled _her to do this, neither of them really knew, but she stood up on her tippy toes, softly grasped the front of his shirt for leverage, and delicately pressed her warm, tender lips to his gawking mouth. His dark, navy blue eyes dilated in a jubilant stupor.

Orihime. Was. Kissing. Him.

His heart stopped, was he dreaming? Oh _hell no _he wasn't!

_Inoue-san. Is. Kissing. Me._

If he could speak, and if his voice was audible, every word he would have enunciated, pronounced, vocalized, would have squeaked in high falsetto. If he could even move an arm, a leg, maybe even twitch an eye, he might have fell back and inevitably passed out due to the surprise. _Damn_. She was kissing him! Uryu couldn't wrap his rationally intellectual psyche around it.

It greatly took him aback, and if he thought that his current situation couldn't get any worse—or any better, even—it did. Uryu was paralyzed, shocked, stunned—even _more _than he had been before. First, she actually admits that she loves him—and now only a few minutes later she's brushing her lips against his in a nervously bashful frenzy? He didn't know what to do. Her lips...ah, Orihime's lips!

It was amazing how just a kiss changed the colors of the heart.

The Quincy drowned in the soft movement against his mouth. Part of Uryu couldn't believe that she—Orihime, the girl he loved, the girl that was unreachable, the girl that now loved him back—was kissing him. And why the hell wasn't he kissing her back?! What happened to his calm, cool, collectiveness that seemed to help him in all sorts of horrible situations—that stoic averment, a sense of impermanent bravado until the actual courage kicked in? Uryu couldn't deny it though—this was awfully, wonderfully frightening!

His mind was racing, the world was spinning on its axis too damn fast—and he was still thinking too much.

All she wanted was a little reciprocation. A few words would have sufficed.

Uryu didn't realize that their mouths now parted, and she was looking up at him. Orihime's eyes were broken as she looked into his pale face. She had assumed—assumed that he would kiss her back, assumed that he still loved her, assumed that his words were just meaningless and untrue. But, he didn't do anything. _Nothing_. Orihime's heart slowly crumbled in her chest as she gazed deeply into his wide, shocked and surprised eyes. He didn't return her feelings. Was he really so repulsed by her? He didn't even _move_.

_Why does this happen to me?_

Assumptions were bad, she knew this, but...she only hoped...

That Uryu would still love her.

Orihime quickly stepped back—embarrassed, fallen, ashamed. Every moment now was so, so hard. She had told herself that she wouldn't cry—but she was just giving broken promises.

"I-I'm sorry." Her voice was barely audible. Her eyes dammed up with dripping tears, but she didn't want to choke on her crushed words. She took a deep sigh of surrender. "I'm sorry I came here. I may not have...made it through the night without telling you how I felt. I just had to see you, I just needed to talk. It's alright if you don't love me anymore, but I still love you."

Uryu didn't reply, and she shivered as he bore holes through her with his freezing eyes.

She glanced away in hurried nostalgia. Oh yeah, the jacket. That was her "reason" to come over there, wasn't it? Orihime felt self-perpetuating guilt again—her and her stupid reasons. Reluctantly, she nervously slipped off his leather jacket, and set it over onto the white concrete steps of his apartment. Orihime missed the feeling of warmth as it was replaced with a cool mist of post-rain humidity, but what she missed more was the undying warmth of his arms. She needed to stop dreaming. Her possibilities were limited, and besides—it was already over.

Orihime gulped, mortified and ashamed with strong eyes still brimmed with tears, she looked up at him. They were just feet away from each other now, but she felt so far away emotionally, if not physically. Humbly, she bowed a respectful "thank you" to him. She didn't know where else to go from there, but she knew that it was time for her to leave. There was nothing else for her to say.

Uryu saw that her body was shaking. His throat was dry, and he mentally kicked himself. He did something wrong, and he had to make up for it. If anything was screwed up, it was their love lives, but she was right. Uryu wanted to giddily smile. She kissed him. It was such an unknown concept, but it felt good.

Orihime looked up, and stood straight. She gulped, at a loss for words.

"Goodbye, Ishida-kun. Goodnight, g-goodnight."

It was beyond her, and she couldn't carry the weight of a heavy world. So she did was she could do best. She smiled at him, and bowed one last time. Turning around, she started walking, hugging herself due to the oncoming cold. Uryu heard her footsteps slowly disappear, but the sound still rang in his ears. Walking, walking…away from him.

Uryu breathed rapidly, his heart pulse raised in tempo. No. Not that smile—the smile that faked happiness, the sham of a smile that he _hated_. Orihime was farther gone from him than ever before, and Uryu promised himself something. He wouldn't make the same mistakes; he wouldn't run away from things.

He wouldn't go home without her.

* * *

_Please don't try  
__So hard to say goodbye…_

* * *

"Inoue-san!"

Orihime felt his cold hand grab her wrist in a rushed backdraft of swift motion. Surprised and a little staggered, she turned around and looked up at his dark navy blue eyes with a curious wonder at the sudden outburst. There was an anxious, hungrily excited look in his glassy eyes, and it almost frightened her, but she couldn't break her gaze with him. Within quick seconds, his leather jacket was comfortably over her wet shoulders.

"I-Ishida-kun—?"

Uryu wouldn't let her finish.

Quickly, he eradicated that atrocious space between them by tenderly cupping her face with his strong hands, and forcefully—but gently—locking their lips in a desperate kiss. Uryu would never get over the taste of her lips, and he wasn't going to just let her leave him. He fought too damn much for her to just go, and Uryu would never let her go again. And he wouldn't _ever_ leave her.

It was a ravenous kiss, full of passion and love, and Orihime couldn't help but conform against his sturdy body. Uryu never felt so desperate, so needy—his lips crashed and kneaded with hers with such a violent, ardent fervor that his heart fluttered uncontrollably as she gripped against him, melting into his body heat. Orihime tightly wrapped her arms around him, and the leather jacket nimbly fell off of her back, but she didn't care. Orihime had no cares while she was in Uryu's presence, her lips against his. She returned the kiss, closing her eyes and letting herself go.

Both didn't notice, nor did they really mind, the light rainfall starting to descend from the sky.

They were both so careless in fact that they both forgot to breath. Swiftly, he pulled away, gasping for air against her neck. Wrapping his arms around her, his cold lips caused shivers down her spine as they brushed against the warm skin of her neck. Uryu inhaled the scent of her hair, and once more, he drowned in intoxication. He closed his eyes, trying to reduce the tempo of his heart to an acceptable beat. Uryu took a deep, self-satisfied breath.

"You don't love Kurosaki."

It was a statement, but she answered like it was a question.

Orihime softly shook her head and answered with a short, silent breath, "No."

Uryu pressed his freezing lips against her neck and lightly kissed her a smile, causing a jolt of heat to travel through her body, and Uryu felt her quiver. He rose back up to his full height, and looked lovingly down at her. She was blushing profusely now, and it was…cute. He smiled down at her, and her gray eyes glanced away in modesty. Orihime didn't really know what to make of it, so what now?

He cupped her face with his hands once more, and he gently stroked her red cheeks with his thumbs. Uryu dipped his head down to kiss her forehead and Orihime shuddered as she felt his hot breath on her skin.

"Good, because I'm not going to let you go now." Uryu breathed huskily, and she immediately looked up at him, questioningly. Her gray eyes gazed deeply into his dark, navy blue eyes, and it wasn't hard to see the never-ending love emanating behind the rectangular lenses on his soft face.

"Ishida—"

He cut her off by pressing one of his index fingers to her warm lips, ceasing her words. She was reminded of the both of them together three days ago, at the bench in the rain, tenderly with his arms around her. And just as he did then, he did now—he held her in a tight embrace, and the same protected feeling washed over her. Orihime felt secure and safe as he stroked her back nimbly with his hands. It was wonderful.

"Inoue-san, I love you. I love you so much." He buried his nose in her gingery auburn hair. "And I'm sorry. I'm…I'm such an _idiot_ sometimes. We were both thirsty for the same thing, but in the end, we both got it—only if you'd take me back."

Uryu sighed softly, and looked back down at her.

This time, _her_ eyes were unreadable, undecipherable. But, there was a hint of something playful, yet indisputably innocent in those gray eyes of hers. Uryu lifted a sleek, black eyebrow.

"It's really matter of you taking me back, Ishida-kun."

"Inoue-san, look at us. I already have. Nevertheless, I wish I could make it up to you—atone for my…_dramatic idiocy_."

At this, Orihime genuinely smiled a real smile—not one of those fake ones that hid her pain, and it warmed Uryu's heart to see her authentically happy. He grinned down at her, but then looked at her quizzically as she glanced away sheepishly from his dark blue gaze. Orihime was blushing.

She looked back up at him through extremely long lashes, through wet, sweetly scented gingery auburn bangs, and he couldn't help but know what she was visually implying. He gulped, and his face turned a light shade of pink. His coolness was replaced with anxiety, and his bravado meter was on the borderline of "low". Softly giggling at his expression, she placed a hand on his cheek; leading his head down, she delicately kissed him, and he didn't fail to kiss back. Orihime felt him smile against her lips, and Uryu held onto her tighter, but he didn't want the—he blushed a little darker—_kiss_ to get too…eager.

He pulled away, and chuckled lightly—today was the first real time that Orihime had seen Uryu smile so much, but she knew that life threw curveballs, and it was her job to catch them! And she wasn't alone this time. They were finally together, and that was all that really mattered.

* * *

_I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain…_

* * *

"Inoue-san, please, come in." His breath was hot, and she wiped a strand of black hair from his face. "I'll make tea, and..."

Orihime smiled. She loved her stoic, serious, chivalrous, smiling, over dramatic Quincy, and he loved her back, that bubbly, compassionate, extremely harebrained girl who liked the weirdest, most appalling foods ever.

"...I have ranch."

* * *

**Oh my...that was crap. Horrible, horrible last chapter...**

**You guys should see the notes I make while in the thinking process. Literally, this was one: "**uryu desperate kiss back etc crap like that**". Anyway, please review! Would be greatly appreciated! Find any typos, grammatical errors, dumb-ass plot issues, dry spots (cuz I know there were some), then tell me! I was blinded by all of the words, and besides, I'm a mediocre writer and I need all the help I can get! (this is random, but when I was writing "**his feet were firmly planted to the ground, both as heavy as blocks of lead,**" I _really_ wanted to put, "**his feet were firmly planted to the ground, both as heavy as…SUPER CHUNKIES FROM HELL!!!**" **

**Oh my freaking goodness Inoue was assertive…This doesn't have any **_**real**_** closure until the epilogue, but heh…too many false alarms with me saying "last chapter". So, let's wait 'til then? This chapter was as corny as the word "corny", but hey, I actually kinda liked it. _Even if it sucked_. Chapter 3 is my favorite. ****PANCAKES!!! **


	6. Kiwi

**This chapter doesn't have anything dirty (heh) implied by the title/song. It's just a random epilogue/humor/fluff chapter. But, **_**DUDE**_** I should write a **_**Kiwi **_**fic. Ahahaga! *not a typo* It would do the IshiHime hopeless romantics/pervs justice! Lol I'll ponder it, but I doubt it'll happen. I don't do the lemon thing, though I do find them **_**extremely**_** hilarious. Hum…**

**It won't be soon before long (haha I love my sucky puns)—I can't believe that my fic is just about over…and for a second I couldn't believe that it wasn't butter.**

* * *

He briskly met her halfway between their routine routes to school—at the destination which they both (though he, reluctantly) agreed to always meet. He persistently insisted that he just meet her at her apartment due to the nonstop rainfall, but she just vivaciously responded, "But Uryu! If you walk to my house you'll get all soaked! Plus…I have the umbrella. I should just walk to your house instead."

He in turn replied back with a gallantly valiant tone, "Yes, but I have my jacket and really, I should be the one to walk you to school, Ori…"—he paused in quick contemplation, but gulped instead as his heartbeat overtook him—"…Inoue-san."

He was still shy when calling her by her first name, and she smiled despite it. As soon as she saw him she lovingly caught him in a bear hug, which almost knocked the wind out of him.

"Uryu, you're too formal sometimes! You can call me 'Orihime' since we're more than just friends now, you know! It's not like my name's 'Tom' or anything!" She grinned up at him and his face turned a light tint of a confused pink. "But, I like that about you. You're so polite. It's really sweet."

She stood up on her tippy toes and kissed his not-so-cold cheek. His face was blushed a full shade of red now, but he tentatively wrapped his hand around hers, which she accepted heartily, and they were finally on their way.

There was a cold drizzle that morning, but they didn't give the slightest of cares. They were both under her umbrella, warm, contented, and most of all, loved.

Orihime leaned her head against his shoulder, and Uryu smiled smugly, yet humbly to himself.

* * *

They arrived at their school with an approximate seven minutes to spare. They would have been there earlier, only if Orihime didn't point out every random thing she saw on the ground or in the gray cloudy sky. Not that there was much _in_ the sky—but Uryu didn't object to it—he enjoyed it. He lightly mused at her random muses. He liked it; he liked how she talked, he liked how she thought—he liked how her mind worked. Uryu never doubted her mental capacity upon observation, but around her quirks, she was an intelligent person.

Well, except for her street smarts. On their way, she nearly ran into a street pole face-first, then bowed a "sorry" to it after Uryu nimbly pulled her away—before he ran into a fire hydrant, crotch-first himself.

* * *

They walked up to their class together, unsurprised at the usual commotion happening in the room.

There was a new foreign exchange student—apparently an American girl—who, tragically, had a rather tolerable bust, and was already failing at suitable defenses against perverted, _violating_ attempts of groping by that sex-crazed Chizuru. Tatsuki was there trying to save the poor, _poor_ American from her touchy-feely creeper advances, which just freaked out the brown-skinned, dark-haired foreigner more, since Tatsuki's methods of fixing things were, literally, to just "punch them in the face". That almost got the foreigner into an unwanted cardiac arrest.

On the other side of the room, Mizuiro was discussing the time when he went on a trip to Hokkaidō and met these _older_ twins—and ended up going to a hot spring with them and their _older_ friends—and as usual, Keigo was freaking out about it, saying how he "never, _ever_ got any of the action".

Ichigo, Rukia, and Chad were over by the window desks just watching it all in partial amusement—and they all thought the same exact thing: compared to the death-defying, hollow-hunting lives that they had to hide from everyone, _this_ was totally normal. Ichigo was leaned comfily back on a desk with his arms crossed, orange eyebrows raised, but his plastered trademark scowl twisted into a smirk upon the sight of the incongruous pair walking into the class.

At the sight of Orihime and Uryu arriving together, about everything stopped, and about _everyone_ looked over at the door. Uryu wore a blank look as the heavy spotlight was on them, and Orihime tilted her head to the side, confused at the sudden interest that beheld them. Uryu's keen dark blue eyes quickly scanned each person's mortified gaze; as he got to a certain orange-haired classmate, said classmate's smirk widened.

"Wow…" Orihime said as she timidly waved to everyone, "You guys look like you just saw something…_kooky_."

Keigo's mouth vibrantly dropped and his brown eyes widened.

"Ah! But alas good Inoue, we _have_ seen something 'kooky'!" He instantly ran over to them and pointed at Uryu, "YOU!" He then pointed to Orihime, "And you!" He then pointed to their hands, which were still intertwined, "AND _THAT!!!_" He scampered back over to Mizuiru. "The popular, beautiful, voluptuous yet ditzy hime, with the nerdy, four-eyed, weirdo sewing emo, number-one-in-the-class freak?! What is this horrible world _coming_ to? The madness! It is just _too much_ for me to bear!"

…Silence…a cough…

Chizuru would have instantly jumped in the one-sided conversation with her own matching cynicism if Tatsuki wasn't already holding her down by the throat. No questions asked, Tatsuki was happy for her best friend who had finally found her love, and she would have held Keigo down to shut him the hell up too—if only she could reach him from across that damned room. Maybe just throwing Chizuru out of the window would work…

"The lovable princess with this dorky fiend? This can't happen! She must have been tainted, hypnotized, _defiled_, by the prissy hands of the sewer!—the most perfect innocent girl with the dark-haired moocher clad in leather torso apparel? _Evil has slapped its dark hand in the corrupt!_"

…More silence…another cough…

One of Uryu's eyes twitched, and glared coldly at the skeptical Keigo, who went over to Ichigo for protection from the navy blue-eyed "fiend". Uryu's grip on Orihime's hand tightened, but she leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. She smiled softly to herself.

"Ichigo, my friend! Please, oh _please_ tell me this isn't so!" Keigo grabbed Ichigo by the front collar of his shirt, pointing specifically at Uryu. "You of all people have to tell me that _that_ looks totally WRONG!"

Beyond angry was an understatement. He was downright _pissed_. The Quincy tightly clenched his jaw and indignantly scowled in utter contempt—so he was a "that"? And what was so wrong with him and Orihime? What the _hell_ was an 'emo'? He couldn't fully grasp the menial concepts of his classmates' complete shock—was the sight of Orihime and him together that appalling? Ugh, Keigo was an annoying, _melodramatic_ bastard sometimes! His eyes narrowed in vexation. His glasses gave off a pissed, almost blinding shine to all of those around him. A few students shivered at the tension of the epically frozen basilisk glare.

"Don't touch me," Ichigo pushed Keigo away and smirked over at Uryu. "…And no, I don't think it's wrong."

_Ishida needs some limelight once in a while. Everyone sure as hell_ _knows that I get too much of it._

Ichigo stole a quick glance at their hands.

_Damn, though… _

"Hey, Ishida!" He heartily threw Uryu a congratulatory thumbs-up, and the Quincy acknowledged it with a sincere look of his own, despite the coolness of his eyes. Then, quizzically looking at Rukia, who was sitting on a desk next to him, Ichigo slyly bent down and inaudibly whispered in her ear, "But, how does a guy like him get a chick like Inoue? I mean, there was never any, like, _hint_—"

Rukia slapped him upside the head, merciless at pointblank, and he jumped back, startled with eyes wide.

"The _hell_ was that for?!"

Rukia exasperatedly rolled her violet eyes and sighed—she loved a _total_ idiot.

"For being a dumb-ass."

"_Huh?—_"

"Exactly."

A lone tear ran down Keigo's blanched face as he saw the exchange between the two.

"No! Kuchiki, I've lost you too? And of all people…why, Ichigo, _why_? When did you turn so…so LAME? I thought that I could drag you back when you told me that you studied like a nerd! But now," he looked away, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, "now you're beyond the few choice checkpoints of return! I've totally lost you! You have no more chances at salvation! You're in cahoots with, with," he turned around and pointed, "THAT _FREAK_ WITH HIME!—"

As Keigo curved back to point at Uryu again, his index finger made contact with something firm, and, rather well built.

"Uh, Keigo, you'd better watch out before you get your sorry ass kicked," Ichigo's simper smirk turned to a full-fledged grin as he scratched the back of his orange head. "Though, I think it might be good for you, ya' poor bastard."

Keigo gulped, as his pointer finger was pressed squarely against Uryu's chest.

He blinked once—his skeptic eyes grew wider as he locked gazes with his glaring navy blue-eyed death.

The room chilled considerably.

"_Asano, I need to have a few words with you_."

* * *

The walk home from school was always Uryu's favorite part of the day. It mostly was his period to reflect on things, to think, to just bask in the smooth tranquilities of the quiet midday. Now the walk home was even better with Orihime walking along beside him, holding onto his arm. They didn't say much to each other, but nothing really had to be said. The very essence of their love was enough to keep them both satisfied.

Suddenly, she giggled to herself, and he looked down at her with a bemused face.

"Hm?"

She didn't look up at him, but she smiled as she gazed on, apparently in her own state of reflection.

"Keigo is so funny! I didn't know he screamed like a girl."

Uryu's eyes imperceptibly narrowed, but he couldn't help but agree. He sighed a little.

"…Nor did I, Inoue-san."

The sky was gray, but the storm had finally cleared.

* * *

They stopped at her door, and she stood in front of him. She gingerly wrapped her arms around his neck, and he in turn softly placed his hands on her waist. Orihime looked deep into Uryu's eyes.

It was rather romantic, both there with arms entwined, gazing at each other.

"Do you want to come in?"

He rested his forehead against hers, and his glasses faintly slid down his nose. Delicately, she helped slide them up with her middle and index finger, imitating the same way he adjusted the ever slippery rectangular lenses on his face. She kissed his nose.

"I don't know, can I?"

He glimpsed a little flash of a smile.

"No."

Feigning sadness in that handsome face of his, he gazed deeply into her cheerful gray eyes, pretending to pout. She grinned in amusement. Ishida Uryu pouting? _That_ was something you didn't see on a daily basis! It was so…_out of character_! Her grin only grew bigger—he was really cute in _or_ out of character, so it didn't matter to her, even in the slightest of bits.

"Well, okay, since you're doing such a great job _pouting_…" She kissed the tip of his nose once more. "But you have to do something first."

The wind softly blew its seasonal breeze against the pair, and his hands tantalizingly stroked the sides of her body in a slow rhythmic motion. She felt his fingers spider their way up her back, and then leisurely wash back down before traveling back up in a returned cycle of placid sensualities. Orihime shivered contentedly at their crawl, savoring the gentle satisfaction of his kind touch. He had _wonderful_ hands, yet for a moment Orihime wanted to giggle.

_What did Asano-kun say? Prissy sewer's hands? Hehehe…_

The intellectual cogs in his mind started turning—her proposal sounded rather interesting—along the fine lines of a challenge. Uryu smiled, "Alright, Inoue-san. What must I do?"

Instantly, her face went serious and she scrunched her eyebrows together, pursing her lips.

"You have to call me Orihime."

The request took him aback. He even blushed. He was, after all, her shy Quincy.

"…W-What?"

"_Uryuuuuu!_" She whined, melting his heart multiple times and causing him to inwardly smile, "All day you have been calling me 'Inoue-san'! I even counted—_once_ this morning, _four_ times in homeroom, _two_ times during passing, _seven_ times during third period, _fifteen _times during lunch, since Asano-kun and Chizuru kept trying to spy on us all eating because I guess we made him cry…and I had that _really_ good sandwich with the sardines, seaweed and mustard, along with that blueberry-cucumber-chicken sweet roll dipped in that special tartar sauce I made...oh yeah, anyway, _eight_—no, _nine_ times during Crafts Club after you helped Mitsuru-chan with that scary looking pink doll again, and then _once_ on our way here, and then one more 'Inoue-san' just now!"

He was still amazed at her incredible ability to say things in only one breath without the chance of suffocation. Uryu was about to comment, until she poked his cheek, silencing him.

"_Pleeeeease?_" She puckered her full lips pleadingly, and his navy blue eyes shined inexplicably down at her. "You won't have to call me by my first name ever again—you can even call me 'Tom', though I don't really _understand_ why, Uryu, but just this once…I'd like…just to hear you say Orihime, and not Inoue-san."

At first he hesitated, but, after all he had been through for the past few days, years even, hell, he could do _anything_—even stop with those formal honorifics. It was pointlessly trivial after all, considering both his and Orihime's sturdy position as—all doubts aside—an official couple now. And the way she was relentlessly pleading to him…it was impossible to deny her anyway—let alone, the look in her gray eyes and her bleak tone of voice all but shred him to countless white and blue Quincy bits.

The smarty cogs turned endlessly in his brain, and the perfect though popped into his mind—he mysteriously raised a sleek black eyebrow and she found it rather…she gulped…_sexy_. Uryu's heart started to anxiously beat, he could hear his pulse in his ears, but he kept his straight composure—he kept it…

…_nonchalant._

"Oh really?" He huskily whispered in silky seduction, "I think I can do that."

He held onto her tighter, and leisurely he dipped his head down, pressing his serene lips to hers. A soft, light kiss; a great, gentle kiss—he placed a hand on the small of her back, pressing her body closer to him, and she tilted her head slightly to the side—the kiss deepened significantly as she gripped his back to keep steady. She had never kissed anyone before—especially not like _this_—but her opinion was set in the strongest of stone: he was a _wonderful_ kisser. In fact, "wonderful" didn't even describe it. Magnificent; beautiful; tender; enthralling; enchanted; _freaking awesome_—all of the synonyms, and their synonyms' synonyms all put together into one word—that would explain things. Like…

Magnificently-beautifully-tenderlly-enthrallingly-enchantedly-freakingly-awesome, and maybe even then some. That was the sensation of his lips against hers.

She mentally shook her head.

No, she took that back. Nothing could explain the feelings he gave her. The "love" feeling was a feeling that no one could explain in a _vicarious _sense. It would have to be physically, emotionally, mentally. Vicariously? No. One would have to know by the sheer experience of love.

Tilting her head even more, Orihime finally lost herself in the sensations of the moment, and she gripped onto him tighter, since she knew that her knees would probably give out at any second. But she also knew that she wouldn't fall. He would be there; he would catch her again, forever. She would never fall with him, her Uryu, there to love her. She didn't take his love for granted, but without a single doubt in her big compassionate heart, he was hers, and she was his.

Closing her eyes, she mumbled something incoherent, and she felt his lips curl into a smile. Orihime was quickly disappearing under the inevitable enchantment of his lips and the colorful world as she knew it was disappearing along with her. Not that she objected…

Things were getting desperate—she liked it desperate.

Desperate.

Desperate…

All too soon, he pulled away. He could have sworn that she had groaned in disappointment.

Uryu looked deep into her face—her cheeks were flushed with light pigment of pink, her eyes were still closed, and she wore a look of the purest bliss. He grinned to himself. He liked the fact that he was the only one who could get her to produce such a _cute_ look—he also liked the fact that none of his damned detrimental nervousness had been revealed throughout that…_makeout_. His face lightly flushed at the term—he was so _new_ to it, it was almost frightening. But, he couldn't help but let his face beam at the dizzy giddiness throughout their tenderly sensual moment.

Uryu leaned his forehead against hers once more, his heart still beating restlessly for her.

"Orihime, I love you."

She finally opened her eyes, and she looked up at him. The true look of love was in her eyes—the look of love that he had wanted, the look of love that she had wanted—the look of love that they both now had.

"O-Oh…" She gasped, attempting to reclaim her will to speak, "I love you too, U-Uryu—um, _Ishida-kun_."

She laughed and gave him a quick peck on the lips before she let go of him to open the door. If she was to stand next to him any longer, she'd drown in that irrevocable look in his dark, navy blue eyes. Her heart trembled hysterically as she caught her breath—her eyes fluttered as she swallowed the air in needy deprivation. If _that_ was what it took to just get him to say her first name, then she wondered what it took for him to do _other_ things...

Orihime, now blushing the deepest shade of red ever possible at the thought, could still feel his dark eyes on her, and her hands fumbled with the keys to her door. She was happy when the lock clicked, and she bounded in.

A small ray of sun found an opening through the thick gray clouds, and within seconds the dreary haze started clearing out. Uryu felt the warmth of the breaking sun on his skin, and immediately he removed his leather jacket. He looked up at the sky with a small, complacent smile.

"Uryu, y'know you can come in now!" Orihime popped her gingery auburn head out of the door, and he turned warmly towards her direction. Blithe and carefree, he walked into her apartment, and chuckled as she caught him in another one of her infamous, breath-depleting bear hugs. He wrapped his strong arms around her; one last thought entered his mind before he closed the door, enclosing their love to the presence of just two, softly shutting the world out…

_She will be loved. _

* * *

**Oh snap, that was cool. It gave me a giddy smile, so I think it worked out. I dunno. I really don't want the fic to end. I feel like a parent whose child just left for college. It makes me sad…**

**I had to put "sexy" in somewhere...I mean, the chapter is named after **_**Kiwi**_**…and has Uryu in it…who totally equals sexy…Alas! It's over. **

**I'm going to miss you all with your kind words of encouragement and awesomeness. It was nice talking you some of you on the side. Indeed, long replies get long reply-replies. **Please review! Would be greatly appreciated!** Please point out typos and all that jazz. This is my first multi-chaptered fic where I actually finished! YEAH! I reached a milestone in my life! **I THANK YOU ALL!** To think that this was originally going a one-shot haha. I'll probably be saying "thank you" again, so let's just leave it to the review replies (though, for the anonymous people who I can't reply to, **_**thank you thank you thank you thank you!**_**) :D**

**Ending note****: LMAO I found this chapter so romantically exaggerating, it's amazing, but over-killed. I hope all of you could vividly imagine Keigo's schizophrenia-ness—it was, along with the IchiRuki part, fun to write. But then, when I get to thinking, how can good ole Ishida-kun kiss Orihime so passionately after she eats all of that…**_**stuff??**_


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